HP Year 5: When Worlds Collide
by Shanster
Summary: Sequel to Voldemort Returns. The war has started and Voldemort is managing to terrify almost everyone, but what happens when by trying to get rid of Harry, he instead leads Harry to the information he so desperately needs?
1. Summertime at Grimmauld Place

**HP Year 5: Let the War Begin  
**_Chapter 1_

* * *

**Warnings**: Strong Language, Self-harm - _these may change at any time_.  
**Sequel** to HP Year 4: Voldemort Returns, although this will hopefully make sense even if you _haven't_ read that.

* * *

Harry gasped as he landed on the floor, having fallen off – or, rather, been shoved off - the bed.

"What was that for?" he cried indignantly, using the side of his bed to pull himself up.

"You're worse than Sirius," Tonks grinned. She was lying comfortably on his bed now, having jumped on it to wake him up. "And me," she added as an after-thought. "Harry, it's after one in the afternoon! And I haven't seen you in ages," she added, slipping off his bed.

"Yeah, well, some of us are tired," Harry grumbled, waving his wand over himself to change his clothes.

"With how early you went to bed last night? I don't think so," said Tonks as she clucked her tongue and grabbed Harry's wrist to pull him from the room.

"Hey - wait!" Harry managed to reach out and grab Sally before Tonks succeeded in getting him out of his bedroom. "I can walk by myself, you know," he muttered as Tonks pulled him down the stairs with her.

"I know," Tonks said brightly. "I don't trust you, though. If I let you of you you'll just run back up to your bedroom."

"Will not," Harry protested, but by then they'd pretty much reached the kitchen anyway.

"Have a good sleep?" Sirius grinned as he stuck a plate of eggs and sausages on the table for him.

"Hard not to, after the Dreamless Sleep. Who cooked that?" Harry asked warily as he sniffed the food.

"Don't worry, Harry," Remus assured him. "As long as I'm here Sirius will never get to touch your food." Satisfied, Harry sat down and ate a mouthful of egg, grinning at the mock-hurt expression on Sirius' face.

"Is Severus still going to come over for training?" Harry asked, looking up at Remus.

"At weekends, yes," his guardian nodded.

"Okay," Harry smiled slightly. He was glad he'd be able to see his uncle so often this Summer, but he was still dreading the first lesson; he hadn't spoken to Snape since the disastrous third Task and he wasn't sure what his uncle was going to say about it.

"That'll get cold if you don't eat it," Tonks reminded him as she pulled a piece of bacon from his plate and started eating it.

"Oh. Right, yeah," Harry frowned at the plate. He didn't feel especially hungry, but he knew he'd be on the receiving end of a lecture on looking after himself properly if he stopped eating again. He didn't notice the glance shared between Sirius, Remus and Tonks as he reluctantly took another mouthful of egg.

After he'd finally finished eating, Harry was once again dragged away by Tonks, this time to train. He had training every day now; Severus trained him on Saturdays and Sundays, Sirius on Mondays and Wednesday, Remus on Tuesdays and Thursdays and Tonks on Fridays. Last year he would have pulled a face at having to work so much over the holidays, but this time he was grateful for it. He wouldn't stand a chance against Death Eaters if all he knew was what he'd been taught in Hogwarts so far, and he knew that said Death Eaters were bound to target him now that their master was back.

"You would make a good Auror after school," Tonks grinned as Harry dodged yet another spell and sent one back at her, missing by a millimetre.

"So I've been told," said Harry dryly as he threw another disarming spell at her. She blocked it, twirled on the spot, disappeared and reappeared behind Harry. "Cheat," he grumbled, putting up a shield charm, spinning on the spot and managing to hit her with a jelly-legs jinx.

"You got me," Tonks said proudly, pointing her wand at her wobbly legs and cancelling the spell. "Damn it, you're good. You didn't tell me they'd been training you _that_ much!"

"Sorry," Harry grinned and shrugged. "It helps that - according to Sirius, anyway - I'm naturally fast. Seeker reflexes and all that. When are you lot going to teach me to Apparate?"

"I think Sirius wanted to start next week," Tonks said, going back into a duelling stance. "The sooner the better, he said. You never know-"

"-what might happen," Harry finished for her. That phrase had been used rather a lot lately. Tonks grinned guiltily at him.

"Don't let me turn into a broken record, Harry," she warned as she raised her wand. "I'm not going to go as easy on you this time. Ready?"

Harry had already fired a curse at her.

.

When the two finished an hour later, both were breathing heavily and sweating.

"I think I need to get Sirius to train _me_," Tonks complained as they walked down to the kitchen for a cool drink. "I can't believe a fourteen year old nearly managed to beat me three times out of four."

"Hey!" Harry cried in mock offence. "And, I'm nearly fifteen!"

"Sorry, Harry," Tonks grinned, chucking him a bottle of cold water. "Come on, though. I'm an Auror. People depend on me to protect them from Death Eaters; it doesn't exactly bode well for me when a fourteen - nearly fifteen," she corrected when Harry opened his mouth, "year old can best me in a fight," she said, shaking her head.

"If it makes you feel better, the Death Eaters I've seen - apart from Severus, I suppose - are pretty pathetic."

"You haven't been able to fight them properly yet, though," Tonks shrugged. "And hopefully you'll never have to."

"Yeah, right," Harry snorted. "I wouldn't be surprised if they showed up at Hogwarts looking for me. Two of them did last year, remember?"

"Not the point," Tonks said with an odd look on her face. Harry frowned. "Oh dear, I'm turning into one of those over-protective mother figures, I think," Tonks said, forcing a grin to make the atmosphere lighter.

"You're worried," Harry stated, sitting down at the table.

"Aren't you?" Tonks asked, joining him.

"I guess," Harry shrugged. "I try not to think about it too much, actually."

"No, I don't suppose you do like thinking about it," Tonks said quietly, taking a sip of her water.

"Aw, come on," Harry said, trying to reassure her. "You said it yourself; I'm good at duelling for a fourteen year old. Imagine what I'll be like at the end of the summer, with all the training I'm getting. You should stop worrying so much… put your energy into pranking Sirius or something."

"Yeah, you're right," Tonks said decidedly, standing up. "I'm too young to be getting grey hair over you; I'm supposed to be the cool older-sister, not the fussy mother hen… d'you think Remus'll help me prank Padfoot?"

"Prank Sirius?" Harry asked with a grin. "Probably. He needs to get him back for a comment Sirius made on his age."

"Great," Tonks clapped her hands together and smiled.

Tonks left after that, leaving Harry in the kitchen with his bottle of water. He waited a minute to make sure she was definitely gone, before sighing and slumping over in his chair, crossing his arms on the table and resting his head on them. Truth was, he worried about everything a _lot_. Not so much about himself… no, he worried about his friends… his guardians… Voldemort wasn't above using peoples' friends to get to them, and Harry _knew_ there was a good chance Voldemort would try to hurt Harry through his friends and family. And, sure, okay, Sirius, Remus, Tonks and Severus _could_ all hold their own… they were all far better at fighting than Harry, and Harry could certainly hold his own against _some_ Death Eaters… but what about his friends? Cedric was going into Auror training, and according to Tonks he was doing good, but what about the others? Cho, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, Ron, Neville, Fred, George… Fleur would be safe in France, at least. Voldemort, unlike Grindelwald, was sticking to Britain.

"Knut for your thoughts?" a quiet voice asked from behind Harry. It was Sirius, and judging by the cup of coffee he was making he'd been in the kitchen for a few minutes. Harry shrugged, not moving his head from the comfortable position on his arms.

"Tonks said you did pretty good in training," Sirius said after a moment, the clinking of his spoon, which was stirring the coffee, echoing around the room.

"Bet her two times out of four," Harry told him with a slight smile. "Nearly bet her three times, but she kept cheating - Disapparating."

"It's not… _cheating _exactly… but yeah, she mentioned that," Sirius nodded. He'd finished making his coffee and so brought the mug with him over to the table, where he sat down opposite Harry and gave him a long, piercing gaze.

"D'you want to talk about it?" Sirius asked after a long stretch of silence.

"No."

"Why?"

"Because," he shrugged.

"Harry…"

"It hurts," Harry told him, looking up at his godfather. "And it… it scares me, I guess. Is that what you wanted to know? I don't want to talk about it because it _hurts_. Viktor was like… a best friend… a brother… and I very nearly lost Cedric, too. Is this what's going to happen? Will people die because they're close to me? Mum, dad, Viktor… who's going to be next? Don't deny it, Sirius… you know it's true…"

"You shouldn't think like that, Harry," Sirius shook his head. "You'll just make yourself even more depressed. As for Viktor… Harry, I know it hurts. Believe me, kiddo, I really do. I went through it with Lily and James, remember? Trust me when I say talking helps. I know it's a clichéd thing to say, but it's true. Think of all the _good_ times you had together."

"Good times," Harry murmured to himself, a small smile appearing on his lips. "He was good at Quidditch… we won't be able to do that again, this year… without Cedric, Fleur and V-Viktor, it's kind of pointless…"

"You won't need to," Sirius said after a moment. "Quidditch is on again this year. Practices will keep you busy- unless you're going to drop off the team?"

"No," Harry shook his head. "I don't think I could… it's the one thing that never fails to cheer me up."

"I know what you mean," said Sirius with an understanding smile. "Quidditch was a life-saver when I was in school."

"What did - oh, right." He had been going to ask what exactly Sirius needed cheering up for.

"Yeah… my family was horrid. Not as bad as yours, though, I must say."

"I doubt many families _could_ be as bad as the Dursleys," Harry said in a light tone, shrugging his shoulders.

"No, I don't suppose they could be," Sirius agreed in an equally light tone. Silence arose for a moment until Sirius randomly pulled a face at his coffee; "It's cold," he said, sticking his tongue out in disgust. Harry laughed; a rare, proper laugh.

"You're a bigger kid than I am, Sirius," Harry shook his head, still grinning. "What're you doing?" he frowned at Sirius stood up.

"Pouring it away. You don't think I'm going to drink cold coffee, do you?"

"Sirius, you're-" but Harry broke off, smiling as he shook his head again.

"What?" Sirius asked, setting his cup down on the table again.

"You're a wizard, just re-heat it."

"And why does that make you smile so much?" Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It reminded me of first year," Harry grinned. At Sirius' questioning look, he rolled his eyes. "I guess I skimmed over that part when I told you and Remus… remember when we went after the Stone?"

"Yes…" said Sirius slowly. He wasn't likely to forget _that_ story; his eleven year old godson finding himself face-to-face with Voldemort _again_.

"After we got caught in the Devils Snare and Hermione figured out she needed fire, she started panicking because she didn't have anything to _light_ a fire _with_. She'd pretty much forgotten she was a witch… still, I tended to forget that a lot back then, too… especially when I went back to the Dursleys," Harry frowned. "Until Dobby appeared I was convinced it was some elaborate delusion I'd had."

"What would you have done in September, then?"

"Stayed at home," Harry shrugged. "The Durlseys would happily keep me there if I forgot about Hogwarts, and they certainly didn't want me to go to high school; they said it was a waste of perfectly good money. They'd have made me do chores all day…" Harry trailed off, averting his gaze. Sirius' eyes had gone rather dark, a feat that always managed to unnerve Harry… his Uncles eyes had always gone dark before he punished Harry.

Harry, with his thoughts straying once again to his abusive uncle, flinched as he felt something brushing his arm and moved his head to see that Sally had silently crept up on him.

"Hey," Harry said quietly, letting her wrap herself around his wrist as he took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. "How does it feel to be back home?"

"It is good," Sally said in what could only be described as a content voice. "You pay attention to me here."

"I'm sorry," Harry visibly winced, drawing the attention of Sirius, who gave him a concerned look. Harry shook his head slightly to show he was fine. "I got distracted, didn't I? With the Tournament, falling out with my friends… and then after Crouch, I saw you even less…"

"I forgive you," Sally assured him. "There is no Tournament next year, though. Does that mean you will ignore me less?"

"Yeah, Sals," Harry nodded, unable to hide a grin. "I promise. I feel really bad for that."

"Good," Sally gave a tiny nod of her head and her mouth twisted in an odd way that meant she was smiling. "I'm tired now. Can I sleep on you?"

"Since when d'you need permission?" Harry asked, shaking his head as his grin widened. "Sure, go ahead."

"You have no idea how strange it is to hear you talking like that," Sirius said with a smile after a couple of minutes of silence.

"Does it bother you?" Harry asked nervously, looking up at Sirius with uncertain eyes.

"Of course not," Sirius quickly assured him. "It's just strange. I'm almost jealous."

"You wouldn't be if you'd been in my place in second year," Harry muttered darkly. Sirius only grinned, patting his shoulder sympathetically. The Animagus knew all about Harry's second year, as Harry had been talked into explaining everything to Sirius and Remus last year.

.

Some time later Harry warned Sirius that Tonks and Remus were planning to prank him before exiting the kitchen, wanting a shower. He left Sally with Sirius; just because they didn't talk didn't mean they didn't like each other. Harry knew for a fact that Sally liked being with Sirius so she could smell his hair - though he hadn't told Sirius that fact. Harry smiled to himself as he undressed and slipped into the shower, making the water cool but not cold. The water was comforting as he let himself get lost in his thoughts.

Everyone was so worried about him lately. They commented on his skinny frame, his duller-than-usual eyes, his quieter personality. It got to him; he'd really been trying to act normal… he'd been trying to hard to act normal… forcing himself to smile at things, to laugh; though, really, he supposed, people could probably tell it was all fake. He could only use the 'you don't understand' excuse with so many people. It worked fine with his friends, aside from Cedric, who'd been there too, and felt even _more_ guilty having been the one to pull Harry to the cup (under the Imperius Curse). It didn't work with his guardians or Severus, either, who'd all lost people they loved…. Suddenly feeling far too cold, Harry turned the water up, trying to get rid of the goose-bumps on his skin.

He missed Viktor so much. It would be different if the Bulgarian was merely back in his own country; they could still meet up every now and again, could still write letters. It just hurt so damn much to know he would never see his face again, never hear him laugh again, never receive Quidditch tips from him again, never _play_ against him in Quidditch again… Harry turned the water up some more; he was still shivering.

It was his fault, really. If he'd paid more attention, he wouldn't have been caught out. 'Never turn your back on someone you can't predict the actions of'. If he'd just paid attention to that one phrase Severus had been drilling into his head for months, he wouldn't have been taken to the graveyard… or, when they arrived, if he'd acted instead of freezing up in shock, he might've been able to push Viktor out the way… unbidden, the memory of Viktor's body came to mind; the unnatural angle at which he lay, his mouth half-open in surprise, his wide eyes lifeless; empty and unseeing…

Harry sighed and turned off the water; the shower wasn't doing him any good. It was making him think too much, and thinking was something he didn't especially want to do. No, _doing_ was far better than thinking… he should go practice some new spells… yes, practice more spells, that would keep his mind occupied…

Harry barely noticed the angry blotches of red on his skin as he redressed, oblivious to the pain. He strapped his wand holster back on, but he kept his wand out. What was the point in stowing it away when he was just about to use it? That done, Harry quietly headed towards the spare room that was used for his training. Thankfully, there was still a pile of books in the corner that he flicked through, searching for anything that looked even remotely useful.

**xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox**

He was still in the room hours later, throwing random hexes at the wall, when Kreacher appeared.

"Master Black tells Kreacher to tell Harry Potter sir that it is time for dinner."

"You could've just told me it was dinnertime, you know," Harry smiled slightly. He would never understand why house-elves felt the need to over-complicate simple sentences. "I'll be down in a minute."

As soon as Kreacher disappeared Harry re-holstered his wand and sank to the floor, leaning his back against the wall as he let out a long, low sigh. In an odd way, he almost missed the Dursleys… they didn't try to make him talk about school… they kept him working hard; constant chores all day, which would keep his mind distracted… he'd even put up with the beatings, if it would take his mind off of Viktor and the upcoming gloomy future…

Harry stood abruptly as he felt his skin tingle uncomfortably in a very familiar way, his eyes darting around the room frantically. He had to cut himself… he had to… he was desperate… but he couldn't… he'd promised his guardians… biting his lip nervously, Harry sat down with his hands beneath him, preventing himself from doing anything. He couldn't scratch himself, pick anything up, use his wand to transfigure something… the itching just wouldn't go away… his heart was thumping, he could feel himself sweating slightly… if he could only make one, small cut…

"Harry?" Sirius's voice asked from the door. Harry didn't look up at his godfather, choosing to continue staring at the floor with unfocused eyes. He couldn't believe how fast the desperation had come. "What's wrong?" Sirius asked, entering the room and kneeling down in front of Harry.

"I… I n-need to…" Harry winced slightly at how pathetic he sounded.

"Cut," Sirius finished quietly, looking at Harry with concern in his eyes. "Were you like this when Kreacher came? If he saw you like this and didn't say anything-"

"I was throwing hexes at the wall when Kreacher came," Harry quickly defended the house-elf. As if to prove this, he nodded slightly at the wall where several burn marks were visible. "Honest. I was just about to come down when…" Harry broke off, chewing on his lip again. It took him a moment to realize blood was actually trickling down from his lip. Harry pulled a face at himself and slowly raised one of his hands, trailing his finger softly along his bottom lip, letting the red stain it. _Why doesn't it hurt?_ Harry barely noticed as Sirius gently pulled his finger away from his lip.

"Come on," Sirius said a moment later, and Harry realized his godfather had healed his lip and _Scourgify'_d his blood-stained finger. Sirius stood up quietly before offering his hand to Harry, who slowly accepted it.

The two were silent as they made their way down to the kitchen. Remus and Tonks looked up at them questioningly as they entered but, after Sirius gave a discreet shake of his head, wisely kept their mouths shut. Kreacher had made mashed potatoes and steak for dinner but Harry, who wasn't particularly hungry, just poked it around his plate, forcing a smile onto his face as Tonks transformed her face. She'd obviously cottoned on that he wasn't in the best of moods and was trying to cheer him up. He eventually left after eating only half of his dinner, feeling rather surprised that Sirius wasn't trying to force the food down his throat again.

He'd barely reached the door, however, when a blinding pain in his scar forced him onto his knees. Voldemort was happy about something… _very_ happy. The pain subsided after half a minute, leaving Harry blinking rapidly as he tried to regain his vision. When he did, he realized Remus's hand was on his shoulder, Sirius and Tonks standing behind him with concerned looks on their faces.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Remus asked him softly as he helped pull the teen to his feet.

"Yeah," Harry nodded slightly, moving slightly so he could lean against the wall. "Voldemort's happy, though… I don't know why…"

"We'll probably find out in the Daily Prophet tomorrow," Tonks told him sympathetically. "You want to go lie down? You look kinda peaky."

"I'll be fine," Harry said, shaking his head. "I'm going to go practice those hexes again, I think." Somehow, he didn't feel quite as depressed as before. It was as though Voldemort's emotion coursing through his head had erased it.

.

At four in the morning Harry woke up panting. His eyes were stinging slightly and his heart beating wildly as he swung his legs over the edge of his bed, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes.

"Where are you going?" came a low hiss, making him jump, and Harry held out his shaking hand for Sally to slither onto.

"Kitchen," Harry told his snake softly, waving his wand over himself to get rid of the sweat. "I doubt I'll be able to get back to sleep now."

"Because this is your first night since the third Task without a Sleeping Potion?"

"Something like that, yeah."

The house was eerily quiet as Harry crept silently down the stairs, careful to skip the squeaky step.

"What are you making?" Sally asked as Harry sat her down on the kitchen table and moved over to the cupboards. He pulled out a mug and set the kettle boiling before turning around with an oddly weary expression on his face.

"Hot chocolate," Harry said after a moment. " Dudley," here, Harry flinched; his uncle had been in the nightmare he'd just had, "used to get it whenever he had nightmares. It worked for him, it might work for me."

"What is hot chocolate?" Sally asked. Harry smiled to himself slightly.

"It's… well… you boil water, okay? Then you add chocolate-flavoured powder- you've tasted chocolate before- and mix it all up until you have chocolate-flavoured water. After that you add some milk to improve the taste of it."

"Water, powder and milk," Sally repeated, and Harry could hear a definite amused tone in her voice. "Humans are very strange sometimes."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, turning back around as the water finished boiling. "I think you're right."

Hot chocolate was rather good, Harry decided. It was warming him up, fighting away the chill and, dare he say it, slightly feeling of _fear_ that had been inside him ever since he woke up. Sally liked it, too; he'd poured a little onto a saucer for her to try.

"Someone's coming," Sally said suddenly, and Harry glanced towards the door. Sure enough, Tonks entered a moment later.

"Ugh, Harry," Tonks moaned, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "What're you doing up at this hour?"

"Couldn't sleep," Harry shrugged, not meeting her gaze. "I think the better question is why are _you_ up? Remus and I risk our lives every time we try to wake you up earlier than eleven!"

"I'm hungry," Tonks grinned.

"You… you woke up because… you were _hungry_?" Harry couldn't help but snort disbelievingly.

"Being an Auror uses up a lot of energy, I'll have you know," Tonks retorted as she waved her wand over some bread, turning it into toast.

"If you say so," Harry said lightly, earning a roll of the eyes from Tonks.

Once she had the toast ready, Tonks brought the plate of food over to the table and sat down opposite Harry, gazing at him in an oddly serious way.

"So, Harry," Tonks started in a light tone. "What's the _real_ reason you're up so early? Don't give me that 'couldn't sleep' crap; you looked knackered when you went to bed."

"Is she always this nosy?" Sally asked, and Harry snorted. Feeling Tonks's gaze on him, though, he quickly sobered.

"It was my first night sleeping without a Dreamless Sleep potion," Harry explained quietly. He flinched back when Tonks reached over to grasp his hand comfortingly, but other than a brief flash of concern on her face she ignored this.

"You really miss him, don't you?" Tonks asked gently.

"Yeah," Harry replied with bright eyes. Blinking, he abruptly pulled his hand back and, after gathering Sally into his hands, stood up. "I think I'll see if I can get some more sleep. You're right; I'm knackered. Night."

"G'night, Harry," was Tonks's quiet reply.

Needless to say, Harry did _not_ get any more sleep that night. He lay, tossing and turning, in bed until he heard Remus getting up before admitting defeat with a frustrated groan. He hadn't been lying when he'd said Tonks was right; he was absolutely knackered… and Severus would be here at noon, too. A quick glance at his snake told Harry that Sally was still sound asleep, so he made as little noise as possible as he dressed before heading back down to the kitchen he'd vacated only hours earlier.

"Morning, Moony," Harry said croakily as he slipped into a chair. He frowned and cleared his throat. "There- that's better," he said, voice back to normal.

"How was your sleep?" Remus asked, handing him a cup of coffee. A second later he joined Harry at the table, a similar mug held firmly in his own grasp.

"I woke up at four," Harry admitted, taking a sip of the hot liquid. "Tonks came down for awhile, too. Said she was hungry."

"That happens rather a lot," Remus nodded amiably. "What woke you?"

"A nightmare, what else?" Harry asked, a little too harshly. "Sorry."

"Do you want me to tell Severus the training is cancelled for today?" Remus asked, a hint of concern colouring his voice.

"No," Harry protested almost instantly. "I'll be fine… I can't afford to miss training, not now… not with… not with _Him_ back."

"It was only a suggestion," Remus relented, putting his hands up in the air in a surrendering sign. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not much to talk about," Harry shrugged, sipping his coffee again. _Ah, that's good_. "I basically just re-lived that night, and then had… someone…" Harry trailed off, unable to finish. _Besides, how do I say I had a nightmare about an uncle that my guardian hates? It's bound to piss people off, and I can really be doing without that right now…_

"Which means there's _plenty_ to talk about."

"Is there?" Harry asked, gazing into Remus's eyes. "You already know what happened. What's the point in me talking about it?"

"Because talking helps," was Remus's simple reply, and Harry snorted.

"I think I've got the message by now," Harry said finally. "Talking helps. I _know_ it does. It's how to talk that's the problem… how do you voice something when it hurts to simply _think_ about it?"

A loud thump on the stairs prevented Remus from replying and a moment later Tonks stumbled into the kitchen looking extremely tired.

"I thought you had today off," Remus said, frowning slightly as he watched her bustle around the kitchen, preparing a quick breakfast for herself.

"Boss just floo'd me," Tonks said through a mouthful of toast. Her bedroom was one of the few that had a fireplace installed; she needed it for her work. "Says he got some important information about a planned attack."

"Attack?" Harry asked, slightly alarmed.

"Some Death Eaters are going after a couple of Muggles that live out in the countryside," Tonks explained. "We're _hoping_ to stop them."

"Good luck," Harry murmured quietly, a disgusted look on his face as he thought back to some of the things he'd read about Voldemort's followers during the last war.

.

Harry went straight back to practicing hexes after breakfast, as it had proved to be oddly stress-relieving yesterday. It helped to distract him… both from thinking about _that_ night and from the sudden urges he kept getting to start cutting himself again. He was so absorbed in what he was doing that he didn't realize anyone else was in the room until he felt his wand fly out his hand. Startled, Harry whirled around with slightly wide eyes, relaxing when he found Severus standing by the door.

"I don't think I have ever seen you concentrate so hard on one task," Severus mused as he handed Harry his wand back. Harry just shrugged, not meeting his uncle's gaze. Severus watched him silently for a moment, seemingly trying to figure something out. "If you would rather take the day off-" he started, in an unusually gentle voice.

"No!" Harry protested instantly, shocking even himself with the sharpness in his voice.

"Harry-"

"I'll tell you what I told Moony earlier," Harry said, a fierce glint in his eye. "Voldemort's back - as you very well know, having the Dark Mark and all - and he's after me. I'm a thorn in his path, or whatever that old saying is… and I fought him in the graveyard… without those… those _ghosts_ appearing, I'd be dead right now. I _need_ to train, Sev! If I don't…" Harry trailed off, surprised at how hysterical he sounded.

"Harry," Severus said in a soft voice, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Slow down and take deep breaths before you give yourself a panic attack. You're putting far too much pressure on yourself. Is this your way of coping with what happened?"

"Maybe," Harry shrugged helplessly. "But maybe not… even if it is, what I'm saying is true. If I don't train, I won't stand a chance- ever- against Voldemort… I can't afford to skip training because of _depression_ or whatever else people are calling it these days. Please," he added when Severus didn't reply. "I need to keep training."

"All right," Severus finally relented, though he didn't look especially happy about the situation. "I think we'll make a start on advanced Charms today."

.

Severus kept Harry working until dinnertime- or, rather, Harry kept pleading to Severus for 'ten more minutes'. If he had to stop, he had to think. He didn't want to think, not right now… not when practicing charm-work made him feel so much better…

"You're definitely improving," Severus commented after Kreacher disappeared from the room with a deafening _Crack!_

"Do you have to leave now?" Harry asked, glancing up at him.

"Yes, Harry," Severus replied patiently. "I have work to do for the Order. You know I'll be back tomorrow."

"Yeah, I know," Harry said, trying to look nonchalant.

"Harry… you know if you ever want to talk, I'll listen."

"You and fifty other people," Harry said, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "I'm fine. You better go before Sirius comes up asking what's taking so long."

After Severus had floo'd away, Harry headed tiredly to the kitchen. Although he never realized it _whilst_ practicing, doing so much spell-work really zapped a person's energy. Apparently it was obvious, too.

"Merlin, Harry, you look beat!" was the first thing out of Tonks's voice as Harry joined them at the table.

"Why thank you," he said sarcastically. "Why don't you take a look in the mirror? You're looking rather worn-down yourself. How'd work go?"

"We stopped them," Tonks said through a mouthful of beans. She really did have terrible table manners. "Only just, though. There were more of them than we thought there would be."

"How was training?" Sirius asked, turning the conversation back to Harry.

"Good," Harry replied, waving his hand around airily.

"You took a long time," Remus said after a moment.

"I… I didn't want to stop," Harry shrugged, dropping his gaze to his plate. "It's a good distraction, and I was enjoying it… I learned a lot of new spells, too…"

"You don't have to look so guilty," Sirius told him softly. Harry shrugged. With his gaze on his plate, he missed the meaningful glance shared between Sirius and Remus, each with a look of determination on their faces.

Tonks had to leave again after dinner; she had to write down reports on what had happened.

"Wait a minute, Harry," Sirius called out as Harry started to head back up to the 'training room' as he now called it. Frowning a little, Harry doubled back.

"Sit down," Remus told him in a firm yet gentle voice. The voice that, when used by Remus, you didn't argue with. Chewing his bottom lip a little nervously, Harry did so, and a moment later one of his guardians was sitting on either side of him.

"We don't like pressuring you into things, kiddo," Sirius started softly. "But this has gone on for long enough. If we don't do something now, you're going to end up as one seriously depressed teenager."

"You can't make me talk," Harry protested stubbornly.

"No, we can't," Remus agreed amiably. "We can, however, keep you in this room until you do."

Harry _really_ didn't doubt Remus's sincerity.

"Fine," Harry relented bitterly after a few minutes of silence. "What am I supposed to say?"

"Anything," was Sirius's reply. _Yeah, thanks, Sirius. That's really helpful_, Harry thought bitterly. "The third Task, Voldemort, Viktor; whatever's bothering you."

"Oh, there's plenty of things bothering me," Harry told him darkly. "You two not leaving me alone, for starters."

"That's one reason," Remus nodded encouragingly. "What are the others?"

Harry rolled his eyes, sat back in his chair, closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. _Maybe it is time to talk… maybe it will help… and, hey, it'll be worth it just to get them off my back… but how do I say it? It hurts to bloody think about it, never mind talk about it! _

Harry groaned, sticking his head in his hands. He felt a comforting hand on his shoulder and for once, he didn't try to shrug it off. "It's - bloody hell, it's _everything_. Viktor… he was like a best friend… we spent so much time together… god, he taught me half the bloody broomstick tricks I know now! And now he's _gone_, because of that crazy hypocrite who calls himself Voldemort! I had to _watch_ him _die_… I watched the light- the spell- fly towards him… I froze up… I could have- I don't know- pushed him out of the way, jumped in front of him… _anything!_ I could have _saved_ him, but instead I froze up! Cedric nearly died, too, and _that_ would've been my fault, and then I let myself get trapped by Death Eaters- I mean, how stupid can you get? And they tied me up… made me watch _Him_ return… and I underestimated _Him_… I took too long to get away… and then… _then_ none of that seems to matter when I think about the future, because I know more people are going to die! More people that I love; they'll die because Voldemort likes to get to you through your loved ones… I want to distance myself from them, to save them, but I _know_ they won't let me… God, I could've saved Viktor… I could have saved him… it's all my fault… and V-Vernon, that git, he keeps getting into my head and making it worse… always talking about Viktor and saying-" Harry abruptly stopped and found his throat swelling up, found his mind turning empty bar for one word; _Viktor_. And then, to his shame, he felt his eyes tearing up… and the salty water was escaping his eyes… '_Why are your eyes leaking?' _Sally had once asked, not understanding what 'crying' was. Harry found himself pulled into a soft embrace; strong arms wrapped around him and constant, soothing words being whispered to him, but he didn't pay attention. All he could concentrate on was letting the tears fall, emptying himself of his grief… _Viktor_…

* * *

And here's chapter 1! I'm not convinced I like it; I feel I could have done a much better job, but I guess it'll do. I've went over it a couple of times, and I'm not sure what else to add/change.

As always, your opinions are greatly appreciated, so please review and let me know what you think!

/edited on 25th Dec 07/ Merry Christmas!! Anyhoo, I just wanted to let you know I've sort-of fixed the spacing between new paragaphs, I hope. I did have to add little symbols, though... so I'd like it if someone can let me know how it looks. The symbols look daft, but yeah... I also e-mailed asking about that; why the html breaks don't seem to work. Let's hope they can answer: )


	2. Tonks

**HP Year 5: Let the War Begin  
**_Chapter 2_

_Swirling colours… he felt dizzy… thump! _

_"Where are we?" Cedric asked, standing up and looking around. _

_"No idea," Harry shrugged, nodding his thanks as he accepted Viktor's helping hand up. "It feels familiar, though… like I should know where I am…" _

_ A green light filled his vision, a cruel, high, cold laughter filling his ears. He couldn't hear anything else… he couldn't see… _

_ "This is your fault," Viktor scowled at him… except it wasn't Viktor. It was his ghost. _

_"Everyone you love will die," Cedric agreed with Viktor in a cold voice. "You can't protect them. You're putting them in danger. You'll kill them all, just like you killed us." _

_"No, I-" but more ghosts were appearing… his parents… _

_"You killed us, Harry," Lily said sadly. _

_"No, mum, I-" _

_Tap, tap, tap. _

_"You would be better off with your uncle, son," James told him coolly. "He, at least, knew how to treat you. He knew what you were capable of." _

_"I didn't want any of you to die!" Harry protested, his eyes stinging dangerously. They didn't understand... he would give anything to have them alive… his parents, Viktor… _

_Tap, tap, tap. _

_A cold laughter was filling his ears… bright green light blinding him… Crouches eyes, staring up at the sky… Viktor's lifeless body sprawled on the ground… a storm was coming, the sky was dark… _

_TAP, TAP, TAP! _

Harry woke with a start, rubbing at his eyes furiously before slipping out of bed to let a rather irritated-looking owl in through his window. It dropped a letter on his lap, nipped him rather hard - Hedwig, who was resting on the top of Harry's wardrobe, squawked angrily at the intruding owl for that - and left again with a second letter clasped firmly in it's grasp. Satisfied that no tears were going to fall, Harry opened the letter.

_Harry,_ it started.

_I hope you're okay. I didn't see you much during the last week of term, not that I can blame you. I probably wouldn't want much attention, either, if I'd had to go through what you did. If you want to talk about it, I'll listen, okay? I bet you'll have a lot of people saying that to you, though. _

_Are you going to the Quidditch World Cup? I managed to talk my gran into buying a ticket for me! It was hard… she doesn't approve of Quidditch that much. Mr Weasley managed to help, though, and Ron said his dad can take me with the Weasleys. England v. France, it's going to be brilliant! _

_By the way, Gran said I could invite some friends over next weekend. Saturday at three. Do you want to come? I'm inviting Ron, Ginny and Luna over as well. I'd invite Hermione, but I think it might be a bit harder for her to get here. _

_Write back, _

_Neville _

Harry managed a small smile as he finished reading the letter. He rolled it up and sat it neatly inside a drawer before collapsing back onto his bed, holding his head in his hands. His heart was still beating rather fast, though his breathing had evened out a little whilst he'd been reading. A small _thump_ on the stairs made Harry jump and glance at the time; nine o'clock. It was probably Remus, then, though how he could be up this early was anyone's guess; there had been an Order meeting last night and, when Harry started to drift off to sleep at one in the morning, he'd still heard noise down in the kitchen.

Number twelve, Grimmauld Place was the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix; a secret society created years ago, in the first war against Voldemort, in order to fight back against him. Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witch craft and Wizardry, and considered the most powerful wizard since Merlin himself, was the one who created and ran it. This was rather helpful as, with Voldemort's fear of Dumbledore, it made the Order appear a lot more threatening to the Death Eaters.

Number twelve had been chosen because of the numerous, powerful protection charms already placed on it. The door to Grimmauld Place had some of the most extensive security charms in place, and many of them were extremely dark magic. The one and only time Harry had used the front door he had received a headache, the result of a gift from his mother which he had discovered last year. Whenever he was near powerful or dark magic, he developed a headache. According to his guardians, as his magical power grew, he'd eventually be able to see auras and sense less powerful magic, too; a feat that could most certainly come in handy.

With Harry's new home - Sirius and Remus had rescued him from his abusive uncle last Summer - being the headquarters for the Order, Harry had met a lot of new people. Everyone was eager to meet him, though that wasn't so surprising with him being the Boy-Who-Lived, and for once he didn't mind; for a reason that he simply couldn't explain, he rather liked being on friendly-terms with other adults. What _had_ surprised him was the amount of people he personally knew already who had turned up for the meeting; Arabella Figg; his neighbour who, until now, he had believed to be a muggle (she was, in actual fact, a squib), his Head of House, Minerva McGonagall, and the three other Heads' of Houses'; Filius Flitwick, Severus Snape and Pomona Sprout, his ex-professor; Alastor Moody, his Care of Magical Creatures professor _and_ first magical person Harry had met after living with his relatives; Hagrid, and numerous other people he'd met either in school or at Diagon Alley.

Knowing there was no point staying in his room all morning when there was no chance of him going back to sleep (despite how tired he was) Harry slowly stood up again and changed into jeans and a plain white t-shirt. It still felt odd to have casual, muggle clothes that fitted him… he was so used to wearing Dudley's larger clothes. _But that's all in the past now_, Harry told himself firmly. _It's all in the past_.

Remus was frying eggs when Harry entered the kitchen, and he could see the odd quill or blank piece of parchment still lying around from last night's Order meeting.

"Are you an insomniac?" Harry asked curiously as he sat down at the table, pulling some of the left-over materials towards him. He had a sudden, insane urge to start drawing. He'd loved drawing as a child, but whenever Dudley found him experimenting with his artistic side, his older cousin had always found some way to spill paint or ink or whatever was nearby onto his picture. Well, sometimes he let Harry finish the picture, only to promptly rip it up when he was finished.

"Why do you ask?" Remus asked, giving Harry a brief, curious glance. He obviously couldn't turn away too long whilst he was working the eggs.

"I heard you lot still going at it when I went to bed, so obviously the meeting ended pretty late, and you're still up early. I mean, you're always up early, but even on normal days you don't exactly go to bed _early_…" Harry abruptly closed his mouth as he felt himself going into 'ramble-mode', something that tended to happen when he was tired or hungry. In this case, he picked tired. He was, after all, still half-asleep.

"When you put it like that," Remus said with one of his gentle smiles, "I suppose you could say I'm partly an insomniac. You've went on little sleep before, too, though."

"Only because I had to study for a Tournament," Harry protested, his mind instantly filling with memories of the Third Task. Willing thoughts of Viktor to disappear, he ploughed on. "You're _always_ up early, and usually for no reason whatsoever."

"Hmm," was Remus's non-committal reply.

"What would you like for breakfast?" Remus asked after he'd finished his eggs. Harry had to stifle a small. _He loves cooking as much as Mrs Weasley_.

"I'll make some toast later," Harry told him. "I'm not especially hungry right now."

"Promise?"

"_Yes_," Harry said as he rolled his eyes. Honestly; he was hardly anorexic! "Oh, hey," he blurted out suddenly as Remus sat down. "Can I go to Neville's on Saturday?"

"Yes," Remus smiled at him. "I've already sorted it out with his grandmother. She was here last night."

"She was?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "I didn't see her."

"You wouldn't have," Remus agreed after swallowing a mouthful of egg - he, unlike Tonks, did _not_ speak with his mouth full. "She arrived late. We'd already kicked you out by then."

"Yeah, 'kicked you out' is one way to put it," Harry grumbled, but he was still smiling.

Barely ten minutes later, an extremely loud and angry shout could be heard all around the house. Harry dropped the cup he was holding, spilling hot coffee all over his legs before it fell to the floor and smashed, Remus jumped up, looking torn between finding out what was wrong and helping Harry, Sirius shouted a loud 'TONKS!' in an irritated voice and then they heard Tonks's door slam shut as she exited her bedroom. His mind made up, Remus flicked his wand, banishing the coffee from Harry's legs and healing the burn just in time for Tonks to come stomping into the kitchen looking thoroughly angry.

"Bloody - idiot," Tonks changed the insulting name at the last minute as she noticed Harry. Her face was bright red – as in, pure tomato red. _Not_ over-exaggerated. "Couldn't fucking knock first, oh no - comes straight in, quite the thing – doesn't even have the gall to look properly embarrassed – seemed to enjoy my humiliation, the bastard – "

"You were sleeping naked again, weren't you?" Remus asked, and though he looked calm, anyone who knew how to read his face (namely Harry) could tell he was holding back some laughter.

"Of course! The room's bloody boiling in Summer!" Tonks huffed, whisking out her wand to cook the bread. Toast again.

"What'd he call you for?" Harry asked, trying to calm his honorary aunt down.

"He's got wind of another Death Eater attack," Tonks said, her tone changing almost instantly. "You'd think they have something better to do than torture bloody helpless muggles-"

"What the hell d'you think you're doing?" asked a sleepy Sirius who'd just appeared at the door.

"Going to work," Tonks snapped, her explanation instantly forgotten. Next second she'd grabbed her toast, turned on the spot and Disapparated.

"Her boss floo'd her while she was sleeping naked again," Remus explained to Sirius in an undertone. _'Again'? Must have happened before, then. _Harry watched in amusement as Sirius's face slowly coloured as he struggled to contain his laughter.

Sirius went back to bed soon after, claiming it was against the rules of nature for him to be awake so early.

"What do you say we start training early today?" Remus suggested eventually. Harry glanced up from the History essay he was working on and nodded enthusiastically.

"Anything to get away from Goblin Wars," Harry grinned.

"I remember that essay," Remus told him sympathetically, looking over it.

"I'm nearly done," Harry shrugged. "I'll finish it tonight," he decided as he stood up.

The two moved into the training room and instantly got to work.

"We'll continue with we were doing before, then," Remus said, waving his wand at the wall so a large board, full of writing, appeared. On it were many common, every-day spells which beside them had notes on how to use it offensively to confuse an opponent. "Now, what could you use a cushioning charm for?"

"Err…" Harry frowned, glancing at his wand. _Cushioning charm… that just makes invisible cushions, doesn't it? What can cushions do?_ "Suffocate them!" Harry exclaimed. "You could use it to suffocate them."

"A very Muggle technique, but indeed effective," Remus nodded. A swish of his wand added the Cushioning charm to the large list already on the board.

"If I was a pure-blood I wouldn't have thought of half of those solutions," Harry said, his eyes flickering over the list of spells.

"No, you wouldn't have," Remus agreed candidly. "That's why Sirius and Mr Weasley are attached to things that are Muggle related - Sirius in his fighting techniques and Mr Weasley in electrical devices. Wizards may have marvellous, extraordinary power at their fingertips, but Muggles are generally far more creative thinkers. Look how far they've gotten without magic; I highly doubt any pure-blood could do all that."

The two carried on until they heard Sirius moving about his bedroom, having obviously decided to finally get up. Remus banished the large black board before exiting the room, and Harry was about to follow when he felt a sudden, blinding pain, once again, in his scar.

"Moony!" he managed to croak out, his hand clutching his scar helplessly, before his knees collapsed from beneath him.

.

He was walking along a stony corridor, one that reminded him suspiciously of an old castle whose picture he had seen in a book as a child. Harry blinked. Or, well, he _tried_ to blink. He couldn't control Voldemorts body, but… he could control his thoughts… he'd never been able to do that, before. He had always _been_ Voldemort and remembered everything when he woke up. He could see, and feel, and think… and _yuck_, he was inside a psychotic, hypocritical… _murderer's_ head!

Harry forced himself to concentrate on Voldemort's surroundings, not that there was much to look at. There was a cold draught, but Voldemort didn't seem to care. Harry held his breath anxiously (or rather, he _tried_ to) as Voldemort suddenly stopped walking; they'd reached a door that was large and metal, and extremely rusty. It reminded Harry of some of the old swings at the park, whose poles needed repainted. Harry could feel Voldemort's anticipation as he reached out and pushed the door, making it slowly swing open…

…to reveal high-pitched, agony-filled screams. Harry mentally winced as Voldemort stepped into the room, and felt (mentally) sick to his stomach as a cruel feeling of amusement rushing through the Dark Lord's body. There were seven people in the room; two Death Eaters, five Aurors. Three of the Aurors were male, and all looked to be in their late twenties. They were all pretty roughed up, with numerous bruises, cuts and swellings on their face. Their clothes were ripped at several places, and more often than not blood was staining the material surrounding the cut. No, never mind 'more often than not'; several of them were _drenched_ in blood, whether their own or not Harry did not know. They weren't Order members, though, as far as Harry could tell. The other two were female; one black woman, also looking pretty beaten, who was openly glaring at Harry - no, at _Voldemort _- and… Tonks!

Tonks was panting heavily, her hair a mousy-brown colour, shoulder-length and somewhat curly. Her clothes were ripped and bloody, just like the others, one eye was swollen and her lip was bleeding. Harry tried to gasp as he was hit with a sudden realisation; _they must have been captured by the Death Eaters they were trying to stop!_ Harry instantly turned frantic; he needed to get out of Voldemort's head and help Tonks! Voldemort _knew_ Tonks lived with Harry, what if he used her to get at him? A scream cut through his frantic thoughts and Harry focused his attention once again on the inhabitants of the room. One of the Death Eaters - a man Harry didn't recognise and who had taken his mask off - was using the Cruciatus on one of Tonks's fellow male Aurors, whose yells were reverberating around the room. _I need to get out, I need to get out_, was the frantic chant now playing in Harry's head.

"Enough," came a soft voice, which Harry recognised to be Voldemort's. "It is my turn, I think." _I need to get out, I need to help them, I need to get out! _

And Harry felt Voldemort raising his wand, as though Harry were raising his own, aiming at Tonks, and Harry felt Voldemort's mouth open, as though it was Harry's, ready to hurt Tonks. And then, unable to do anything to prevent it, Harry felt the words helplessly leave what felt like his own lips. "_Crucio_!"

.

When Harry opened his eyes he found himself lying on the floor of the training room. His head was resting on something soft – someone's leg, he guessed – and his scar was still burning painfully, he was panting and sweat was running down his face.

"Woah, slow down, kiddo," Sirius said gently, his arms tightening around him slightly as Harry instantly tried to sit up.

"No!" Harry gasped out. "I need- to get- up!" struggling against Sirius' grip, he somehow managed to force himself into a standing position, out of Sirius' grip, and then he used the wall to help him balance.

"Harry-" came Remus's voice.

"_No!"_ Harry cut across him. "He's got Tonks! _Voldemort_! He's got Tonks - the Death Eaters must've got them, there're seven people, all Aurors I think, and they're getting the Cruciatus placed on them! Some of them look pretty roughed up – ha, understatement of the year, they were covered in blood! And - and he was using the Cruciatus! Voldemort was using it on _Tonks! _I could hear them all screaming when they did it-"

"Calm down, Harry," Sirius told him in a gentle yet urgent voice. Noticing his godfather's pale face, Harry sucked in a deep breath and stopped his panicked ranting.

"Do you know where they are?" Remus asked quietly, _urgently_, also looking pale. If one looked close, they would have seen a hint of fear in the werewolf's eyes.

"I…" Harry closed his eyes, breathing quickly, trying to think through the pain still in his scar. "N-no," he said, opening his eyes and biting his lower lip anxiously. "All I know is it reminded me of a castle... grey, stony walls… and it was really cold..."

"Come on, you'll need your potions," Sirius said, taking Harry gently by the arm.

"No! What about Tonks?" Harry pulled away from his godfather, but without the wall to support him, he fell almost instantly to the floor.

"I'll contact Severus and see if he can find out where she is," Remus promised, hurrying from the room as Sirius picked a still-reluctant Harry up, carrying him with obvious ease.

Remus was gone by the time Sirius and Harry reached the living room, having obviously Apparated away.

"Did you feel the curse again?" Sirius asked, casting a glance at Harry as he rummaged around the cupboards, trying to find the right potions.

"Just the once," Harry nodded tiredly. His breathing had finally slowed down. "I felt it at the end, when he used it on Tonks. Sirius… what d'you think they'll do to her?"

"Honestly? I have no idea," Sirius told him tonelessly, turning round as he finally found the potions. "Perhaps that's a question better suited to Snape."

"It's disgusting," Harry said, accepting the potions from Sirius. He downed the first one before continuing. "The way he thinks… the way he feels… he found it _amusing_ to hear them screaming… how can people enjoy torture so much? Voldemort, Death Eaters… my uncle…"

"Some people are just born with twisted minds," Sirius told him, sitting down beside him on the couch and slinging an arm around Harry's shoulders. An odd look suddenly crossed Sirius's face, and he glanced sharply at Harry. "Do you still think you're to blame for your uncle's actions, Harry?"

"I dunno," Harry shrugged, dropping his gaze. "Sometimes… I mean, I know everyone keeps telling me it's not my fault, but…" Harry trailed off. "Old habits die hard, I suppose."

"It's _not_ your fault," Sirius said firmly, giving Harry's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I'll tell you it a million times a day if I have to - I promise you, one day I'll make you believe it. It is _not your fault_."

"Yeah…" Harry sighed and drank the second potion. He really couldn't be bothered having this discussion, not now, not with Tonks out there… being tortured… His eyes instantly started drooping, and he sagged against Sirius.

"Sleep well, kiddo," Sirius whispered, softly kissing his head before standing up and conjuring a blanket to lie over Harry.

.

When Harry woke the room was dark but for the small fire lit on the wall opposite him. His scar was still tingling a little, but not too much, and he couldn't really be bothered giving it any acknowledgement. As soon as he pulled the blanket off himself and stood, he started shivering uncontrollably. He frowned at himself before casting a warming charm on himself. _The room isn't that cold._ Harry was just about to step towards the door when he heard a warning hiss from his foot. Looking down, Harry couldn't help but smile.

"Sals," he greeted his snake. "I haven't seen you around for awhile."

"I have been exploring the parts of the house I had no chance to explore last summer," Sally told him, curling herself around his wrist when he held it out to her. When he stood back up straight, he found Sirius standing at the door.

"Thought I heard a hissing sound," Sirius smiled slightly. "Thought it might've been gas or something."

"You use gas here?"

"Magic doesn't work for everything," Sirius said with a shrug. He motioned for Harry to sit back down on the sofa before joining him. "The room's pretty chilly," Sirius said, frowning as he glanced around the room. Before Harry had the chance to even blink, Sirius's wand was in hand and, with a quick flick at the fire, the flames rose up high, licking at the stone around them. "Want your blanket back?"

"I cast a heating charm on myself," Harry said as he shook his head. "Have you found out anything about Tonks?"

"She's at St. Mungo's," Sirius told him, a wide grin splitting his face. "Remus is with her just now. Snape slipped them all a Portkey. Don't know how he's going to explain it to dear old Voldemort, but Dumbledore will have thought of something."

"Is she - are they - okay?"

"They _will_ be," Sirius assured him. "Being stuck with Death Eaters is never good for someone's health. The Healers at St. Mungo's are brilliant, though. She'll be up and about in no time. Her co-workers, too."

"That's good," Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "And it's good to know my visions are at least useful for something… he was pretty quick, though - not that I'm complaining. How long was I asleep?"

"A day. I was actually considering floo-ing Poppy… you don't usually sleep that long after a vision." Harry could only shrug in reply, but then a new thought came to him.

"Sirius… d'you think I'm going to have… well, _more_ visions now?" Harry asked, unable to keep the unease out of his voice.

"I'm not sure. I'll ask Dumbledore next time I see him." Sirius's eyes narrowed a little. "Any specific reason as to why you asked?" Harry shrugged again. "Harry…"

"I dunno," Harry didn't drop his gaze from Sirius's this time. "It's just… he's _back_. He's going to be… well… doing things, recruiting people… he'll lose his temper a lot more often, too, I'll bet, and I mainly seem to get visions when he's angry at people…" Harry trailed off with a shudder, and Sirius wrapped a sympathetic arm around him gently, trying to give him some comfort.

"I know you hate it, kiddo. Merlin, _anyone_ would hate it. I'll talk to Dumbledore about it, okay?"

"Yeah."

"Anyway," Sirius clapped his hands together. "Moving on. How are you feeling?"

"Uhh…" Harry gulped uncertainly at the mischievous twinkle in his godfather's eyes. "Fine…?"

"Brilliant! Grab your cloak, Harry, and we'll go visit Tonks!"

.

Nearly twenty minutes later a loud _crack_ echoed around an empty alleyway, and two figures appeared, quite literally, out of thin air. One of them - the smaller one – stumbled as he appeared, managing to fall to his knees even with the supportive hand, belonging to the taller figure, on his shoulder.

"Are you that bad with _all_ methods of travel?" Sirius asked in an amused tone.

"I'm good on brooms, aren't I?" Harry shot back, allowing Sirius to pull him back up into a standing position. As soon as Sirius had let go, though, Harry swayed slightly.

"Are you okay?" Sirius asked concernedly.

"I…" Harry broke off, rubbing at his head with a look of irritation.

"You've never reacted like that to side-along Apparition before," Sirius frowned, using one hand to pull Harry's away from his head, and the other to feel Harry's temperature. "Your head feels normal."

"It's not that," Harry mumbled, rubbing at his head again when Sirius removed his hand. "It's more like…" but whatever it was like, Harry didn't say. Instead, he turned on his heel and stalked to the back of the alley, his balance becoming less steady with every step he took.

"Harry!" Sirius said urgently, gripping his godson's arm tightly to prevent him from toppling over.

"Looks like that gift Mum left me could be quite handy," Harry said sloppily, pulling out his wand. _Wingardium Leviosa_, he thought, using the learned 'swish and flick' wand movement. A second later, a large teapot rose into the air. It had a large crack down one side and some dirt covered it, but it looked otherwise unharmed… except for the thick, nauseating waves of dark magic seeping from it that only Harry could feel.

"It's been cursed," Harry said, glaring at the teapot as though it had insulted him.

"Come on," Sirius said, eyeing the teapot before pulling Harry away. The teapot dropped with a clink.

"Feel better now?" Sirius inquired as the two slipped through crowds in a busy London street. He didn't let go of Harry's arm.

"Yeah," Harry said slowly. His headache was gone, but his stomach felt a little unsettled. "I… yeah. Are we just going to leave it there?"

"I'll floo Kingsley when we get back," Sirius said, still looking at Harry as though he expected him to faint. Harry rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but smile at his godfather's over-protectiveness. It was something that never failed to make him feel… well… _safe_, he supposed. Loved, and cared for. Quite simply, it made him feel everything he had ever wanted to, but never had the chance to whilst growing up with the Dursleys.

It didn't take them long at all to reach their destination; probably only around ten minutes. They had stopped in front of an old, abandoned building called 'Purge & Dowse LTD'. The window featured several dummies with skewed wigs and moth-eaten clothes that were several years out of date. Sirius, still reluctant to let go of Harry's arm, pulled the raven-haired teen up to the window with him.

"We're here to see Nymphadora Tonks," Sirius told one of the dummies in a low tone. Harry glanced around them nervously, but none of the Muggles seemed to be paying them any attention. When he looked back, the dummy was beckoning them with a finger. "Come on, then," said Sirius as he pulled Harry through the window with him. Whereas stepping through the barrier to platform nine and three-quarters felt like walking through a short blast of warm air, stepping through the glass window to enter St. Mungo's was rather like stepping through an icy sheet of water. Thankfully, though, they were warm and dry when they entered the hospital.

"Which floor's she on?" Harry asked as Sirius steered him lightly through the hospital.

"I didn't actually ask," Sirius admitted sheepishly. "If the layout of this place hasn't changed, though, she'll be on the fourth. That's where James and I always ended up back when we were Aurors."

"We could have asked the welcome witch, you know," Harry grinned as they started on their second flight of stairs.

"Well, yes, we could have, but that would've taken all the fun out of it."

Harry's only reply was a roll of his eyes.

Fortunately, the layout of the hospital _hadn't_ changed, and it didn't take them especially long to find Tonks, deep in conversation with Remus, in a small ward of her own. Harry suspected it was probably the Order who had arranged that for her; it wouldn't exactly bode well for them if other patients or their visitors were to overheard things they shouldn't.

"Wotcher, Harry," said Tonks brightly as soon as she saw him. "Come here, you."

"You're pretty chipper for someone who's - er, been injured," Harry commented as he obliged, rolling his eyes when Tonks ruffled his hair affectionately and pulled him down to sit on the bed beside her.

"We escaped before much happened. I supposedly have you to thank for that," she grinned at him.

"It was… _him_… who risked his life, not me," Harry shrugged. Well, he could hardly say Severus' name in the middle of the hospital, could he? If Voldemort found out…

"But without you, no-one would've known," Tonks protested.

"So you're feeling better, then?" Sirius asked, sensing that, ever the shy one, Harry wasn't enjoying the attention too much.

"Yeah," Tonks nodded, leaning back on her bed again. She was now half-sitting, half-lying, and was at the perfect angle to ruffle Harry's hair again, which she took great delight in doing.

"Tonks," said Harry as he rolled his eyes. He grinned a little, too, though, and didn't have the heart to stop her.

"The Healers are great," the Metamorphmagus continued as though Harry hadn't told her off. "I'm more worried about Lucy… she's still training to be an Auror, she's about half a year younger than me…"

"The black woman," Harry said quietly, and all three adults glanced at him.

"Yeah," Tonks nodded after a moment. "They… did some pretty… horrid stuff to her." Tonks's hair had just dulled considerably, leaving it more of a brownish-pink colour rather than her usual vibrant, bubble-gum pink. "You - _please_ tell me you didn't see it, Harry. Merlin, _please_ tell me you didn't."

"I only saw you for a couple of minutes," Harry assured her. "I woke up when… well, I woke up quickly."

"Good," Tonks nodded, apparently satisfied.

After that, the talk turned to lighter subjects as Sirius and Remus – rather obviously, actually – tried to keep Tonks and, to a lesser extent, Harry cheerful. Tonks had been through a lot, and neither would forget the panicked reaction of Harry when he woke up after witnessing Voldemort placing the Cruciatus on Tonks.

"I'm going to get a drink," Harry decided finally, and the three adults looked at him again. "Anyone want anything?"

"I'll come with-" Sirius started.

"I think it's safe for me to walk through a hospital, Padfoot," Harry smiled slightly.

"Kid's got a point, big cuz," Tonks grinned. Sirius scowled; he hated being called 'cuz' almost as much as Tonks hated being called 'Nymphadora'.

"I wouldn't mind some tea," Remus said after a moment.

"I've got water," Tonks shrugged. "It's all I'm allowed with the potions I'm on."

"Sirius?" Harry asked softly.

"Not thirsty," Sirius shook his head. "Are you sure-"

"I'll be fine, Sirius," Harry patted his godfather on the shoulder with a grin before exiting the ward.

The café – or tearoom, as the sign had called it – was on the fifth floor, Harry knew. He flattened his hair nervously across his forehead, trying to hide his scar, as he made his way through the corridors. _Was it this busy when Sirius brought me up?_ Luckily, though, no-one seemed to be sparing him a second glance. Well, no-one from the corridor. Feeling like he was being watched, Harry slowly turned on the spot and nearly jumped when he noticed a face pressed up against the glass window of one of the wards. The door to the ward was open, and Harry could see a family visiting another patient. Reading the sign above the door, he couldn't help but feel a little guilty. He was permanently in the mental ward, and it was partially Harry's fault. Deciding tea could wait for a moment, Harry held back a sigh and approached the ward, and the familiar man inside it.

"Hullo, Professor," Harry greeted the man in front of him.

"I remember you!" Gilderoy Lockhart exclaimed cheerily. "You're the one with the fiery bird!"

"Er - well, he's Dumbledore's, really," Harry said nervously.

"What about those other people? The ones with the red-hair? The boy seemed to like me a lot. Does he want my autograph? Is that why you're here?"

"Err…"

"Excellent! The nurse has been teaching me joined-up handwriting, you know," Lockhart said conversationally as he led Harry over to a bed.

"That's… good…" out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see one of the children visiting the second – and only other – patient in the ward giving him a sympathetic look. _It's not just me he drives mad, then._

"Here we go," Lockhart said brightly, shoving a bundle of perhaps twenty signed photographs at Harry. "I hope that's enough… maybe you have more friends, though. Would you like more? I have plenty I can give you!"

"No, Professor," Harry said loudly. "These are fine, thanks."

"If you're sure," Lockhart seemed only a _little_ let down. "So I used to teach, did I?" Lockhart inquired with a toothy grin. "I suspect I taught you everything you know, then."

"Err-" Really, it was quite annoying how limited Harry's vocabulary had suddenly become.

"I wrote numerous books before I was confined in here, you know. I used to be quite the brainy person. The dear nurse, bless her, assures me my memory will return eventually. She never fails to take an autograph from me. Used to be my biggest fan," and he grinned a toothy smile again. "Do you have any of my books?"

"Yeah, we bought them when you taught us," Harry said, deciding not to tell Lockhart he and Ron had burned their books in their third year.

"Good, were they? Perhaps that's why he was so fond of me."

"Harry?"

"Oh, sorry, Professor," said Harry, not feeling sorry at all, as he stood up. "I think it's time I left."

"Don't forget the autographed photographs! I'm sure your friend is dying to get them!"

"Of course," Harry said, giving Lockhart a strained smile. He picked up the photos, rolling his eyes when Lockhart couldn't see him. "Goodbye, Professor."

He left the ward as quickly as was possible to without running.

"Old friend?" Sirius asked amusedly as Harry dumped the photographs in a bin and dragged his godfather to the tearoom.

"Right," Harry snorted. "He's as full of himself now as he was before Ron's wand turned on him."

"_That_ was Lockhart?"

"Oh, I forgot. You never did get to see a photo of him, did you? Yeah, that was him. He seems to think Ron's one of his biggest fans, too," Harry couldn't help but grin.

"He didn't try anything funny, did he?" Sirius asked in a low voice.

"No," Harry said, glancing at Sirius. "Even if he _had_ his mind, I doubt he'd be stupid enough to try anything in the middle of a hospital."

"Never hurts to be cautious," Sirius shrugged, his cheerful attitude instantly back in place.

"Anyway, I thought you were going to trust me to walk to the tearoom and back on my own," Harry said lightly.

"Until you took half an hour to return, yes," Sirius said, equally as lightly.

"Oh," said Harry dumbly. "I guess I lost track of the time."

"I noticed," came Sirius's sarcastic reply. Harry snorted.

It was nearly two hours later that Harry, Sirius and Remus left the hospital to return to Grimmauld Place. They would have preferred to stay longer, of course, but there was an Order meeting on that night, and Sirius wasn't happy leaving Harry on his own at the hospital, even if there _were_ numerous professional Healers and his own personal Auror (Tonks) with him.

Accepting his fate, Harry headed to the library when they arrived back at Grimmauld Place, deciding he'd say hello to whatever Order members remained behind this time. Kingsley and McGonagall tended to stay behind a lot, as did Mundungus. Mr and Mrs Weasley never stayed too long, as they felt the task - or burden, depending who you asked - of watching his four younger siblings was an unfair one to place on Percy for too long.

Having read many of the old books last summer, Harry made a beeline for what he had dubbed the 'new section' where all the books that Order members had taken it upon themselves to bring were stashed.

.

"Abra Kedabra," Harry tried. The book he had picked had been a short one exploring magical theory and how reliable the _words_ behind spells were. It had been an interesting read, really. It had basically been researching whether or not it was possible to accurately cast spells like _lumos_ using a different incantation. An incantation that Harry had decided, for now, should be 'abra kedabra'. It didn't seem to be working, though… which was odd, considering it was supposedly easy for those talented at wandless magic – a feat which Harry _did_ have, courtesy of the Dark Lord. Eventually, sighing in frustration, Harry gave up for the night. It was considerably quieter downstairs, so he felt it was safe to appear again.

Sure enough, when Harry arrived at the kitchen it was just Sirius and Remus there; the former looking exhausted and leaning over the table, resting his head on his crossed arms and the latter casting a charm on several large, rolled-up pieces of parchment.

"Be glad you're not a part of this, kiddo," Sirius mumbled through a yawn. Harry smiled slightly, sitting down in the chair opposite Sirius. A moment later, Remus sat down next to him.

"You could always go to bed," Remus suggested, sounding rather amused.

"What, and leave you to poison Harry's mind? I don't think so."

"You're more poisonous than Remus," Harry pointed out, earning a glare from Sirius.

"Traitor," Sirius grumbled.

"Prat."

"Git."

"Mutt."

"That's enough, boys," said Remus in the same amused tone. "Honestly, Sirius! Just because Tonks isn't here to bicker with doesn't mean you need to start with Harry!"

"It keeps me awake, though," Sirius said with a grin. "Or would you rather I fall asleep and snore and drown out all conversation?"

"All it takes is _silencio_ to shut you up," Harry said lightly, fingering his wand with a mock-thoughtful expression.

"Moony!" Sirius whined. "He's baiting me - he's trying to make me bicker again!"

"I am not," Harry retorted with a smile.

"I'll send both of you to bed," Remus warned.

"No worries there," Harry grinned, standing up. "I'm tired anyway."

"You were just asleep for a day!" Sirius exclaimed, raising his head to stare at Harry incredulously.

"I know," Harry said, chewing his bottom lip slightly as he considered the thought. "Maybe it's because of that object earlier? Did you tell Kingsley about that, by the way?"

"First thing I said to him other than 'hi'," Sirius nodded with a small grin, though he still looked concerned. "I guess that could be it…" he trailed off, looking at Remus hopefully as though he knew the answer.

Noticing the look in Sirius' eyes, Remus shook his head apologetically. "'Fraid not, Padfoot. We could floo Madam Pomfrey tomorrow. I'm sure she'd know."

"How about we wait and see how I feel in the morning?" Harry suggested, heading towards the door. "Night, guys."

* * *

And here's chapter two! That's the last of the 'fast updates' though, I'm afraid. Currently, I've only written half of chapter three. If I thought writers block was bad on year 4, it's nothing compared to this.

That said, I have two requests. Firstly, if you feel you would be able to beta chapters within the space of five days, and would like to beta future chapters (around 7,000 average word-length) please let me know. I doubt many have enough time, patience or commitment to manage that, though.

Secondly, if you have any good ideas that you would like to see in this fic, please tell me. I have a very basic chapter plan, and with the way it is, I highly doubt I'll make it past 50,000 words as length. Now, I don't simply aim for long-length fics, but I like them to reach at least 90,000 words. Feels more like a proper book that way, you see? Plus, it'll be highly disapointing if this is only half the length of it's preceeding story.

Oh! One final thing; does anyone know any 'Harry gets a second chance' fics? Y'know, where he goes back in time and re-lives his Hogwarts years? Or any good fics where either James turns up alive, or Harry goes to an alternate universe? If you do, and the stories are complete, please give me the author's name. I'm craving those kind of stories right now like you wouldn't believe.

To conclude, as always, please leave a review! It makes me feel warm and fuzzy; a must-need feeling on cold winter nights such as tonight!


	3. A trip down memory lane

**HP Year 5: Let the War Begin  
**_Chapter 3_

The next morning, Harry awoke feeling refreshed; all signs of tiredness from the day before were gone, leaving him feeling oddly energetic.

"It was probably just too much at once," Harry told himself, a little uncertainly, as he peeled off his pyjamas and wriggled into his clothes.

"What was too much?" Sally asked somewhat sleepily, having woken up at the sound of Harry's voice.

"A vision then… and then _feeling_ that object. Blimey, that's hard to get used to. Not the ability – I got used to that ages ago – but the feeling. It's horrible... _painful_, and that's saying something; I'm certainly no stranger to pain, not after my childhood…" Harry trailed off with a sigh.

"Perhaps it just needs some getting used to?" Sally suggested, blinking at him.

"Maybe," said Harry noncommittally. "Guess we'll just have to wait and see, really. You coming?" he asked, holding out his wrist for Sally to wrap around.

"Of course," Sally said, sounding almost insulted that he even had to ask.

When Harry arrived at the kitchen, it was all he could do to keep himself from letting out a loud (amused) gasp at the sight that greeted him.

"Sirius?" Harry asked weakly, sauntering into the kitchen, dropping into a chair and holding a hand to his head in a very dramatic fashion. "Did I hit my head yesterday or something?"

"Ha ha, very funny," Sirius replied dryly, setting his cup of what looked to be _extremely_ strong coffee down on the table.

"Can't blame a guy for asking," Harry shrugged, dropping the act and leaning over to nick Sirius' coffee, taking a grateful sip from it. "It's eight-thirty in the morning, and you're… well, _awake_. Oh – and Remus _isn't_, which is almost weirder."

"Don't steal my coffee," Sirius scowled, taking the mug back with a pout worthy of a five year old. "I need it far more than you do."

"Yeah, I can tell," Harry grinned, ducking as Sirius tried to swat him on the head. "Seriously, though. Why _has_ the world turned upside-down?"

"Remus and Kingsley are away helping Dumbledore with something," Sirius admitted after a moment.

"Something that you're not allowed to tell me about," Harry voiced the unsaid words. "Typical."

"You know I don't like keeping things from you, Harry," Sirius said, sounding vaguely guilty.

"I do, Sirius, honestly," Harry reassured him. "I didn't mean that in a bad way… I'm not like Ron. I don't want to hound you for information…" Harry had to purposely keep himself from shuddering as childhood memories sprung to mind. _Yeah, growing up with the Dursleys can do that to you_. The Dursleys had been very firm in the fact that Harry was not to ask questions, was not to eavesdrop, was not to read the newspaper… he had grown up, having the belief that attempting to find information was _very, very bad_. He'd lost that fear of information a bit at Hogwarts, though. He'd had to, what with the Philosophers Stone and everything else that had happened. Not wanting to suddenly become depressed, Harry pushed the thoughts out of his mind and forced himself to continue. "I think, for now, I know enough to last me a lifetime… it's like everyone keeps saying, isn't it? 'I'm too young'. Something about teenage hormones being unpredictable, or something. I can't remember the exact wording."

"Err," Sirius blinked, looking rather, for lack of a better word, amazed, at Harry's level of understanding.

"Not as dim as you like to make out, am I?" Harry grinned. "Anyway, that explains Moony not being here. It doesn't explain why _you're _up so early."

"No, it doesn't," Sirius agreed, smiling slightly.

"Git."

"Prat."

"Good-for-nothing flea-carrier."

"I don't have fleas!" Sirius protested with a yelp.

"Really?" Harry asked, surprised. "Is it nits, then? There's _something_ in that messy hair of yours."

"You're as bad as your father was," Sirius shook his head, letting out a disappointed sigh.

"Good; I'd rather take after him than Vernon." Sirius stiffened slightly as he heard Vernon Dursley's name, but otherwise (thankfully) gave no reaction.

"So," Harry said, feeling a little self-conscious and wanting to change the subject, "any idea when Remus will be back?"

"Not until tonight, I reckon," Sirius said after a moment, apparently deciding to forget about Harry's previous comment.

"Okay…" said Harry slowly. "There goes training, then." Remus had been going to train him today, seeing as Tonks was still at St. Mungo's. He paused for a moment, before his face brightened. "We could start Apparition lessons!"

.

And so, after breakfast, the two found themselves in the training room with Harry standing in front of a wooden hoop that strongly reminded him of Muggle hula-hoops.

"And you're _sure_ this is the way to do it?" Harry asked, eyeing the hoop uncertainly.

"It's the way we were taught at school," Sirius shrugged. "We got a big lecture – half of it spent emphasizing the importance of the bloody 'three Ds' – then were told to Apparate into the hoop."

"Sounds simple," Harry remarked, though he knew it was anything but.

"That's what I thought," Sirius snorted. "At least I wasn't the first to splinch myself, though."

"You splinched yourself?" Harry asked, wincing as he remembered Ron's comment from last year. Percy had learned to Apparate, and Ron had been complaining. Being the deprived-of-magical-knowledge boy that he was, Harry had asked exactly _what_ Apparition was and had been given, quite obviously, a lecture from Hermione… accompanied, of course, by some gruesome tales of splinching told by Ron.

"I left an arm and an eyebrow behind," Sirius grinned. A moment later, his grin widened as he added, "Severus left his nose behind."

Even though Harry liked Severus (his distant cousin who, to keep things simple, he preferred to call 'Uncle Severus') and despised Sirius' treatment of the Hogwarts Potion's Master, the raven-haired teen couldn't help but laugh at the image inside his head of Snape standing inside a hoop with his large, hooked nose floating in midair beside him.

"Okay," Harry said finally, having got his laughter under control. It was more than could be said for Sirius, who still kept letting out periodic snorts.

"Destination, Determination and Deliberation. Odd set of words, but got it…." Harry trailed off nervously now as he looked at his hoop. "I just… concentrate, and spin on the spot?"

"Yup," Sirius nodded enthusiastically. "Look," he waved his wand in the air and (non-verbally) conjured a second hoop, placing it nearly three meters in front of him. He gave Harry a last encouraging glance before turning on the spot, reappearing in the hoop with a proud, 'Ta-da!'

Harry grinned at his godfather before turning his gaze to the hoop in front of him. "Okay…" Harry licked his lips, and tried to concentrate on the hoop; on _only_ the hoop. He focused on the slightly-dusty floor inside it, the slight cracks he could see in the wood. Perhaps he was concentrating _too_ hard, but he wanted to be sure… trying as hard as possible to keep the image of the dusty floor in his head, Harry closed his eyes and spun on the spot…

...and promptly fell over, landing flat on his bum. Sirius was over barely a moment later, pulling Harry to his feet and ruffling his hair with a sympathetic grin.

"I forgot to mention that, I think. You'll probably fall over quite a bit before you manage."

"I think I figured that part out myself, thanks," Harry replied sarcastically, but he was grinning. Pulling away from Sirius, he retook his position in front of the hoop, cocking his head to the side slightly (a habit he had started to pick up, presumably from Luna) as he regarded it. After being certain he had the image in his mind, Harry once again span around on the spot. Whilst he managed to refrain from falling this time, he also didn't move any closer to the hoop – quite the opposite; although he'd avoided falling, he _had_ stumbled backwards a little. Running his hand through his hair in irritation and making it stick up at even odder angles than usual, Harry glared at the space inside the hoop, trying to will himself there. He imagined a small tube connecting him to that space, and pulling him through it. That was what it had felt like when Sirius had side-along Apparated him, at least. A loud crack suddenly filled his ears and Harry blinked, realizing he'd moved. His anger instantly disappeared, to be replaced by an intense pain. Biting down on his lip hard, so as not to cry out (though it was extremely hard; the pain was almost as bad as the Cruciatus), Harry somehow twisted his head around to see his leg and an eyebrow both where he had been standing only a second before. He'd barely seen them, though, when a cloud of purple smoke invaded his vision and he felt the pain disappear. As the odd, purple smoke cleared, Harry saw Sirius standing with his wand pointing at Harry, his brows furrowed.

"You okay?" Sirius asked, coming over to stand by Harry with a concerned expression.

"Yeah," Harry said shakily. "Er… maybe I'll take a break, though."

"Good idea," Sirius quickly agreed, laying a hand on Harry's shoulder to steer him out the room.

.

The two settled themselves in the living-room, where Harry curled up on the sofa and leaned his head against Sirius' shoulder.

"You sure you're okay?" Sirius asked after a moment. "I remember when I splinched my arm before… it hurt like hell, I swear."

"I know you swear," Harry couldn't resist teasing a little before he went back to the situation at hand. "I've… felt worse," Harry said, trying to keep his voice even. "I'm okay. Just… shaken up, I guess. We both knew this could happen, though," he finished with a shrug. "If it didn't happen _now_, it would probably happen in a couple of years when I learned at school."

"Doesn't stop me being concerned," Sirius said, before his face suddenly broke into a grin. "Oh, if only my younger self could see me now. A fussy parental figure… he'd – I'd – be scarred for life."

"You're not _fussy_," Harry defended him, smiling slightly. "Fussy is like Mrs Weasley. You're one of those 'cool parents', I think."

"Aw, thanks, Harry," Sirius grinned, ruffling Harry's hair.

"Sirius!" Harry whined. "I'm not a dog. I, unlike you, _don't_ enjoy having my hair attacked all the time."

"And you think I do? All those people constantly petting me, or trying to tickle me?"

"Of course you do," Harry said, as though he thought anyone who thought Sirius _didn't_ enjoy it was insane. "It's you we're talking about, isn't it?"

"Why are you always so mean to me?" Sirius asked sadly, giving Harry a puppy-dog look.

"Why are _you_ always so mean to _me_?" Harry shot back, grinning.

"I'm not mean," Sirius protested. "I'm funny."

"No, you're a prat."

"Git."

"Twit."

"I know you are, but what am I?" Sirius asked, looking full of pride at his comeback.

"_So_ original, Sirius," Harry rolled his eyes. "That joke's almost as old as you are."

"I'm not - get back here!" Sirius yelled as Harry jumped up, avoiding his godfather's hands and escaping the room, laughing.

.

It was, as Sirius had said, well into the night before Remus and Kingsley both Apparated into the kitchen, each of them looking thoroughly exhausted.

"S'pose I'll go now," Harry said after a moment, moving away from his position by the kitchen worktops and leaving his now empty mug beside the sink.

"Don't go because of us, Harry," Kingsley quickly protested, shaking his head.

"It's fine," Harry told him with a smile. "You'll probably want to talk about… well, whatever you just did." Seeing that Kingsley – and Remus, for that matter – still wasn't assured, he added, "Besides, there was a new spell I wanted to practice."

That done, Harry left the kitchen, but rather than head to the training room he headed towards the library.

"Hullo, Kreacher," Harry greeted as he entered and found Kreacher sulking away in the corner.

"Mas – Harry," Kreacher bowed slightly. "Would Harry Potter sir like anything, sir?"

"No," Harry shook his head, pulling a random book out and dropping onto one of the more comfortable seats in the room (the one that Sirius, being the best at Transfiguration, had transfigured into a comfortable arm-chair. It looked strange in the middle of the library, but it did its job of giving readers a comfortable place to sit).

"I'm just keeping out of everyone's way…" Harry peered at Kreacher curiously as he sat the book down in his lap. "Where've you been hiding, anyway?" he asked the elf. "I've hardly seen you so far all summer."

"Kreacher has been staying out of everybody's way," Kreacher told him. "And Kreacher has been tidying the house. Master wants it clean for the Order."

"Oh," said Harry lamely. "Er – if you need… err, help, just let me know, okay? And… you don't need to stay out of _my_ way… I like talking to you," Harry finished, feeling a little guilty. _Poor Kreacher, he must get so lonely_.

"As Harry Potter wishes, sir," Kreacher said, though Harry could tell from the house-elf's face that Kreacher certainly wasn't going to ask for 'Young Master Harry's' help in cleaning up Grimmauld Place. Kreacher bowed before disappearing with a small '_pop!_'

"House-elves are odd creatures," a small voice said from down around Harry's feet.

"Yeah, they are," Harry agreed, bending over slightly to pick up Sally. "You were quiet; I didn't even realize you were here."

"I have been sleeping," Sally explained. "Your voices awoke me. I felt it would be rude to disrupt you."

"Oh," Harry paused, biting his lip sheepishly. "Sorry. Well, it should be quiet now… I'm just going to read then I'll go to bed, I suppose. Are you coming with me tomorrow? To Neville's?"

"Sally will stay here," the little snake said, shaking her head.

"Okay," Harry nodded, relaxing back against the chair and opening his book.

At around midnight, Harry stood with Sally who was asleep and wrapped around his wrist, and put his book back before heading to the door, planning to go to bed. However, he had barely stepped out the room when an abrupt, blinding pain in his scar caused him to whimper slightly and fall to his knees. Anger flooded through his body, alongside his confusion, and he realized he was feeling _Voldemort_'s feelings. He couldn't seem to get a clear picture of where Voldemort was, but rather he caught small snippets of conversation. "_You failed… blasted old man… that Werewolf and the Aurors… you'll pay for… be more careful, next time… blundering idiots…" _

Sally hissing at him brought Harry back, and he shakily pushed himself up from the floor into a sitting position, wincing as pain flashed through his scar again.

"Is master alright?" Sally asked, sounding concerned.

"Y-yeah… I… yeah, I think so," Harry stuttered out. "He didn't use _Crucio_, at least… that counts for something, right?"

"Harry?" a soft voice asked, and Harry looked up to see Remus slowly approaching him. "Are you alright?" he asked gently, kneeling down in front of him to see his face. "Kreacher came and got me," he told him with a small smile, reading the question in his eyes. "Sirius is still downstairs talking to Kingsley."

"I'm okay," Harry assured him. "It wasn't a… well, it wasn't a vision. He's angry, though. Whatever you did today worked."

"I expect Albus will be pleased to know that," Remus smiled, though it didn't completely erase the look of concern on his face, before standing back up again and helping Harry up. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes," Harry said firmly; and indeed he felt much better than before. That was nothing like his scar-_dreams_ at all. "I'll be fine after some sleep."

"Alright," said Remus, pushing him towards his bedroom. "Off to bed with you, then. Neville's expecting you at noon."

"Night, Moony."

.

Harry woke up at around eight the next morning, and was rather surprised when he found the kitchen empty. _Then again_, he told himself, _Remus was probably pretty tired… he certainly looked it._ Shrugging to himself, Harry busied himself with cooking some breakfast – bacon and eggs – and rolling his eyes when he had to shoo Kreacher away.

"Good morning, Harry," Remus said, entering the kitchen at last. "Did you sleep all right? No trouble from your scar?"

"My scar's fine," Harry assured him. "What about you? I mean… well, you looked pretty tired yesterday."

"It was a busy day," Remus said vaguely, offering him a small smile. "I'm fine now, though. Thank you," he added, as Harry handed him a plate of bacon.

"Do you know when Tonks'll get let out?" Harry asked, sitting at the table with his own bacon.

"Next Wednesday, I believe," Remus told him, glancing over.

"Okay," Harry nodded, trying to keep his tone even. Every time he thought about… _that_… he still felt pretty shaken up; he still felt like _he_ had been the one to raise his wand…

"So, I hear you attempted to Apparate yesterday?" Remus asked, a small smile showing on his face.

"Yeah," Harry nodded, wincing slightly at the memory. "I had no idea splinching was _quite_ as painful as that."

"Yes… I remember when I first splinched myself. Horrible experience… sadly, it's the only way to learn. If you're splinching already, though, then I'd guess you'll learn it pretty fast."

"That's good to know, I guess," Harry grinned.

When Harry stood in front of the fireplace at noon later that day, Sirius still wasn't up.

"I'll make sure he's awake when you come back," Remus promised. "He wanted to practice Apparating again."

"Okay," Harry grinned. "The sooner I get that learned, the safer I'll feel. Say hi to Tonks for me."

"Will do," Remus, who was going to visit Tonks whilst Harry was at Neville's, assured him. "Have fun."

Harry nodded before taking a handful of floo powder, stepping into the fireplace and calling, "The Longbottom Mansion!"

After what felt like ages of spinning past all sorts of different fireplace exits, Harry finally stumbled out of one, landing on his knees. It was better than some of his landings, at least, where he sometimes found himself lying flat on his stomach (or back). He took a moment to get his bearings, hearing a giggle as he finally pushed himself back up. However, barely a second later he found himself nearly toppling back to the floor as an orange blur flew at him.

"Surely you haven't missed me that much _already_," Harry grinned, patting Ginny's back as he shuffled his feet back a little to help him keep his balance.

"Course she has," Ron's voice came from somewhere behind Ginny. "It's a girl thing," he added once Ginny had pulled away.

"Don't make me hex you, Ronald Weasley!" Ginny scowled at her brother, who visibly winced. He was, no doubt, remembering some hex or another that Ginny had cast on him in the past.

"Hey, Neville," Harry greeted, stepping around Ginny to see the other Gryffindor boy.

"Hiya, Harry," Neville smiled at him. "Why don't we all go out to the greenhouse to talk?" he asked the room at large, before stepping closer to Harry. "Is Tonks okay?"

"S'pose you'll all have heard about that," said Harry, wincing a little as his vision flashed briefly in his mind again. "She's fine… I'll tell you guys about it later."

Neville's greenhouse was nearly as large as one of the Hogwarts' ones, and housed twice the amount of plants seeing as he didn't need to leave space for two classes of students to fit in.

"Wow, Nev," Harry whistled, looking around at all the plants. "I can see why you're the best in the class."

"Thanks," Neville said a little nervously, his face flushing at the praise. "There're some seats over here," he said a little more confidently, leading his friends to the back of the greenhouse. "Gran likes to sit in here with her friends, sometimes. She says it's nice and private for gossiping," he finished, smiling a little.

"Before we do _anything_ else," Ginny called, making herself comfortable on one of the chairs as she turned a piercing gaze on Harry, "tell us about Tonks!"

"She's been frantic with worry," Ron told Harry and Neville in an undertone. "Kingsley fire-called mum after the attack, but she shooed me and Ginny away before we heard much."

"Tonks is fine," Harry assured Ginny, copying her earlier motions and getting comfortable on a chair. "She… well, it was for work, not the Order. They got wind of a Death Eater attack and went out to prevent it from happening… they all got caught, I suppose, and taken to Voldemort." Here, he tried not to roll his eyes as Ron and Neville winced at the Dark Lord's name. Ginny didn't even bat an eyelid, though, and Harry was secretly pleased. "Well, I saw it all, and alerted the Order, who got _you-know-who_ to get them out."

"And you're sure she's okay?" Ginny asked, her eyes wide.

"She's fine. She was beaten up pretty bad, but she's at St. Mungo's now, and the Healers have assured us she'll be fine. Oh, that reminds me," he suddenly grinned. "Guess who else I saw at St. Mungo's?"

"Who?" Ron asked, eyeing him curiously.

"Lockhart!" Harry exclaimed, trying not to laugh at the expression on his friend's face.

"I forgot he was there," Neville said thoughtfully.

"Yeah, so had I," Harry shrugged. "He's like a self-centred little kid, only less cute, always blabbering on about himself. His nurse seems to be encouraging it, always telling him about the books he's written, and his achievements. She must have been one of his fans before he lost his memory. He gave me twenty signed photographs before I left, telling me to hand them out to my friends – especially you, Ron," Harry rolled his eyes.

"Why me?" Ron asked, brows furrowing in confusion.

"He seems to think you're 'rather fond' of him. I think he remembered you best out of us all."

"Ew," Ron grimaced. "That prat? No way!"

"Watch it, Ron. I could say the same about you," Ginny said, sticking her tongue out at her brother before turning to Harry. "You're _already_ having a busier summer than the rest of us put together," Ginny said lightly.

"Yeah," Neville agreed. "Anything else we should know about?"

"Not really," Harry shrugged. "I mean, I'm learning how to Apparate now, but apart from that it's really just training. Not much else to do."

"Lucky git," Ron grumbled. "Apparating sounds cool."

"Not when you splinch, it isn't," Harry disagreed, shuddering at the memory.

.

Eventually when the outside heat got to be a little much, the four friends returned to the kitchen for some orange juice, then dragged a table out to the greenhouse to sit the glasses on.

"Hey," Harry said suddenly, sitting his glass down on the table they were sitting at. "I thought you said Luna was coming?"

"She was," Neville shrugged. "Something came up with her dad."

"Is she alright?" Harry asked, his mind instantly coming up with all sorts of horrible reasons for her absence.

"Yeah," Neville assured him. "Her dad found something that needed 'urgent researching' or something, and he needed her help with it."

"Oh," Harry breathed. "That's okay, then. They're probably off to find a Crumple-Horned Snorkack, or something," he grinned, trying to lighten his mood.

.

It didn't take long for them all to move back inside, eager to get out of the overly-warm greenhouse. They'd headed into the living room, where Ron, ever the eager chess player, noticed a large Wizard Chess board as soon as they entered.

"Please?" Ron begged, when everyone instantly backed away from him. Harry raised an eyebrow and turned to Ginny who glared at him before turning to Neville who let out a small sigh and walked towards the chess board.

"I'll play you, then," Neville said, accepting defeat. Harry and Ginny smirked at each other before settling themselves down to watch what could only be an interesting match, especially as they now had an unspoken agreement to goad Ron as much as possible. Perhaps if they distracted him enough, Neville would stand a better chance.

Needless to say, although the game lasted longer, Ron still bet Neville with unnatural ease.

.

It wasn't long before Tonks was out of St Mungo's and back at Grimmauld Place, bringing back the cheerfulness that the place had lacked in her absence. Sirius and Remus just didn't have Tonks' bright, and slightly-naïve outlook to life. Both were prone to lapsing into thoughts that you could tell were depressing just by looking at them, whereas it was impossible to find Tonks without a bright smile on her face. This summer seemed to be passing even faster than the last, if that was possible. Harry blamed this partly on the pranking between Sirius and Tonks, which was fun and could make any day speed by, but he also had a feeling it was to do with the fact that his uncle was on his mind a lot less this time, as he had come straight from Hogwarts, rather than going back to the Dursleys first.

His training helped a lot, too. It seemed that spending a few hours a day learning new spells (or new muggle fighting techniques) was a brilliant way to speed up time. Sirius and Remus were trying to teach him how to Apparate at weekends, too, and Harry was happy with how he was progressing. He'd only splinched himself twice since his first 'lesson' and could now easily reach his hoop. They still kept him practicing at it, though, saying you could never be too cautious.

Harry's birthday was fast approaching, something he wasn't sure whether he ought to be looking forward to, or dreading. He liked being able to spend his birthday with Sirius, Remus and Tonks, but his guardians were hinting at throwing another party, and having lots of attention placed on him (even by friends) was something he could happily do without. He supposed it was better than either being ignored (like he had at the Dursleys since he'd become a wizard) or being _beaten_ for thinking he 'deserved a special day'. Not that he'd ever tried to make his birthday anything special; he had never changed his routine at the Dursleys. Dudley had liked to make up lies when they were _really_ young, though, and would tell Vernon that Harry had been talking to himself about 'presents and cakes', which instantly set the older man off. _'What makes you think you deserve any of those special things, boy, eh? They're only for normal kids, not freaks who go around disturbing everyone's lives! Go finish your chores or you'll get worse than just a bloody beating tonight, you ungrateful little freak!' _

In fact, the night before his birthday he had a nightmare regarding his sixth birthday.

_ It was a Thursday… probably one of the better days to have his birthday, as Dudley always went to Pier's on a Thursday, and Uncle Vernon worked weekdays. He, thankfully, did not get the lengthy summer holidays that Harry and Dudley did. All Harry really had to put up with his Aunt, and the worst he ever received from her (physically) was a slap. _

_ Nevertheless, he woke up that Thursday morning with a larger amount of dread than usual. His Uncle only worked during the day; he'd have to be especially good if he wanted to avoid his Uncle's temper at night. And Dudley…he wouldn't be away all day. Biting back a sigh – something very odd for a six year old to do – Harry crawled out of his cupboard in his too-large clothes and slipped into the kitchen, where his Aunt and Uncle were all ready waiting. A large frying pan sat on the cooker and a packet of bacon lay off to the side. _

_"Bacon and eggs today, boy, and don't you dare burn them," Petunia snapped at him. _

_"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry replied meekly. _

_From the glare his Uncle sent him before heading off to work, Harry knew this was going to be a bad day. _

_ Harry's fears proved to be true, for when his Uncle returned home that night he was in a very bad mood. A very, very, very bad mood. _

_"Boy!" his Uncle hollered, fury lacing his voice. Harry considered hiding in his cupboard all night, but knew that would only make his punishment worse, so he quietly slipped out and padded softly to the living room, where his Uncle was drinking some whiskey. _

_"Yes?" Harry asked quietly, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. _

_"Dudley tells me you tried to sneak some food earlier," Vernon said, in barely controlled rage. "Says you thought you deserved it, as a birthday present." _

_"No, Uncle Vernon," Harry couldn't hide the fear now. "I-" _

_"Silence, boy," his Uncle snarled, and Harry obeyed immediately. It wouldn't do to make his Uncle even more mad at him, after all. Even at six years old, Harry understood completely how he had to act around his Uncle. Survival instincts, he called them. _

_"I thought, after last year, you would have learned. Obviously I was mistaken… I suppose I'll just have to try and teach you again." _

_"No, Uncle, please…" _

_Begging was, of course, no use and soon the only things Harry was aware of were pain and the strong, sickly smell of his Uncle's favourite whiskey. _

Harry awoke, sucking in a large amount of air as he tried to keep himself from crying out. He took a moment before opening his eyes, half-afraid he would see his Uncle's hate-filled gaze staring back at him. When no such thing occurred, though, Harry slowly uncurled himself from the ball he'd curled into, still breathing unevenly as some of the fear continued to flow through his body. Eventually, he managed to make himself sit up and gaze around the room warily, shivering as the cool air hit his sweaty body. Everything was as it should be; a large desk against one wall, a wardrobe against another and some bookshelves on the one that held the window. Hedwig's cage sat on one of the bookshelves, the door wide open and the cage itself empty as Hedwig was out hunting. She'd be back soon, though. Sally, too, was missing; no doubt slithering round the house trying to find a comfortable spot. His room was the complete opposite of his old one, back at the Dursleys… so why, when he gazed around and looked into the shadows, did his Uncle's furious glare pop up in his mind? Why did he still flinch and let out a small whimper when it looked like one of the shadows moved slightly? Everything was so different, so why did he still feel the same fear now that he'd always felt when he awoke at the Dursleys? Why the _hell_ was he letting a simple nightmare get to him so much? Unable to find the energy to groan at himself, Harry simply stood up and walked out the room… hot chocolate sounded good… hell, _anything_ sounded good, if it would distract him from the ever-growing itching on his arms and legs, which were begging to be scratched, to make him feel better.

Harry was still extremely jumpy as he made his way down to the kitchen, nearly falling down the stairs as he caught sight of a moving shadow – which happened to be his _own_ shadow. He was, as always, careful to avoid the squeaky stair as he descended them, and was careful as he opened the kitchen door, which had a habit of slamming into the wall if you opened it too enthusiastically.

As absorbed as he was in trying to remain silent, Harry didn't even notice the figure sitting in the semi-darkness of the room as he headed over to the kettle, setting it to boil. He was just about to reach up to one of the cupboards when a hand was placed gently on his shoulder and he flinched away, tripping over his own foot and landing flat on his bum.

"Harry?" Sirius asked sleepily, rubbing at his eyes. He frowned as his brain caught up with him and he realized Harry was sprawled on the floor. "Clumsy bugger," Sirius said good-naturedly, leaning down to help Harry up. Harry, however, flinched away from the touch once again before pulling himself up, watching Sirius with uncertain eyes.

"What's wrong?" Sirius asked softly, watching with concerned eyes as Harry gazed at the floor, unwilling to meet his godfather's eyes. It had been a long, long time – well, a year, really – since Harry had flinched away from touch like that.

"It's nothing," Harry mumbled. Sirius raised an eyebrow, stepping forward to touch Harry's shoulder again, sighing as Harry flinched for the third time that night.

"That isn't nothing, Harry," Sirius said, running a hand through his tangled hair. "Sit down."

"Sirius-"

"Sit down, Harry," Sirius said wearily, pulling out a chair. After a moment of hesitation, Harry complied, and Sirius pulled a second chair out so he could sit and face Harry. "Now, would you like to tell me why you're flinching away every time I try to touch you?"

"It's nothing," Harry mumbled again, not meeting Sirius' gaze.

"Harry, do you want me to wake Remus up?"

"No!" Harry protested quickly. "It was the full moon only a couple of days ago… he needs his rest…"

"If you don't tell me why you're scared of me, I _will_ get him," Sirius warned, and Harry winced as he heard the slightly hurt tone in his godfather's voice.

"It was just a dream," Harry mumbled, gazing at the kitchen table.

"About?" Sirius pressed.

"What do you think?" Harry asked, a little harshly. "My bloody Uncle, of course! He…" Harry's voice softened, and he groaned inwardly as his body shuddered involuntarily.

"He what, Harry?" Sirius asked gently, urging him to continue.

"It was just a dream," Harry shook his head. "Just a dream…"

"Harry, lying to yourself won't help matters. We both know this was a memory, not a dream. What happened?"

"It was my sixth birthday," Harry relented. "I guess someone upset him at work. It was _always_ my fault if something happened at work… he was already in a bad mood when he came home that night. Then Dudley… even at that age, he liked to see me get hurt… he told him some stuff… just a bunch of lies, and Unc – and _Vernon –_ believed him… that was one of the worst 'birthday beatings' I ever got."

"'Birthday beatings'?"

"Every year since I was four he found an excuse to beat me on my birthday. Usually it wasn't too bad. Like I said, that was one of the worst."

"That _bastard_!" Sirius growled, causing Harry to jump.

"I think I'll go back to bed now," Harry said nervously, standing up.

"No," Sirius stood, too, grabbing Harry's hand and refusing to let it go, even when he flinched. "I didn't mean to frighten you, I'm sorry. Look, we'll go through to the living room, okay? I just want more tea, first. D'you want some hot chocolate?"

"Sure…" Harry nodded, chewing his lip. Sirius sent him an encouraging smile before Harry practically ran out of the kitchen.

When Sirius reached the living room with the two mugs, one of tea and one of hot chocolate, it was to find Harry sitting on the floor, his back resting lightly against the sofa and his gaze fixed steadily on the fire.

"Harry?" Sirius asked softly, trying not to startle him. He knew how easy it could be for Harry to slip back into his old ways – this was far worse than the nightmare he'd had after the second task. That, although it had unsettled and disturbed him, hadn't had him flinching every time someone tried to touch him.

"I'm sorry," Harry said quietly, turning his head and holding Sirius' gaze for the first time all night. "For… for flinching, and s-snapping at you."

"You know you don't need to apologise for that," Sirius told him soothingly, crossing the room and lowering himself to sit beside Harry, also leaning his back against the sofa. "Here's your drink."

"Thanks," Harry said softly, smiling a little as he took it out of Sirius' hand. "Why does it still get to me so much?" he blurted out after a moment of silence. "It's been over a year since I saw them… saw _him_… why does it still bother me? I should be over it by now… I was better during the school year… why…?"

"Harry," Sirius said gently. "Your uncle abused you in many ways for many years. He did some – some terrible things, things that would break even a grown man. You've been coping really well considering everything that's happened, but there's no way anyone would expect you to just 'get over it' in the space of a year, or even two or three. As for you coping better during the school year, well… you had a lot of distractions. School work, homework and the Tournament. All you have here is training, and you've been doing less of that lately."

"Only because you're reluctant to start on the non-verbal stuff," Harry teased him lightly, and Sirius smiled in relief. At least Harry wasn't _completely_ depressed.

"It's hard to do," Sirius said shortly. "It tires you out easy, too."

"Remus and Sev don't mind me doing it."

"That's them," Sirius shrugged. Harry stared at him for a moment before nodding, apparently to himself.

"Are you okay?" Sirius asked eventually, sitting his half-full cup of tea down on the floor beside him.

For a moment, it looked as though Harry would come away with his typical, 'I'm fine' answer, but after a moment he merely shrugged. "Dunno," Harry told him honestly. He kept his gaze on the fire and his cup in his hands, relishing in the heat that both gave him. At least the urge to cut himself wasn't as bad as usual. Maybe he was finally starting to get over it? Oh, he'd never be _completely_ over it, he knew that. Like smoking; even if you give it up, the urge is always going to be hiding away in a small corner of your mind. But he _had_ been thinking about it less, lately. That said, he'd been thinking about his Uncle less, too, and look where that had gotten him. Shivering slightly, suddenly feeling cold, Harry sat his cup down on the floor and pulled his knees up to him, wrapping his arms around his legs.

"I'm a mess," Harry said suddenly, sounding sad. "Look at me… it's my fifteenth birthday, and I'm sitting here, all… what? Depressed?"

"You're not a mess, Harry," Sirius told him softly. "You can't help it if certain things remind you of what Dursley used to do. Anyone would be the same… in fact, a lot would be worse… come here," he said, opening one of his arms. Harry glanced at him, hesitated slightly, then shuffled over, leaning his head on Sirius' shoulder whilst his godfather wrapped a comforting arm around him. "Get some more sleep, kiddo. Tonks refused to let you have a birthday without a party – or a birthday prank – so you'll need your energy."

"Evil witch," Harry mumbled, his eyes closing of their own accord. Really, it _was_ rather comfy here.

Sirius laughed. "I've been saying that for _years_." When Harry didn't reply, Sirius glanced down to find him already asleep. "Sleep well, kiddo," Sirius smiled softly, conjuring a blanket to lie over the two of them. There wasn't much point in moving, after all. Soon, Sirius drifted off to sleep, too, his head dropping down to rest on Harry's messy hair.

* * *

Chapter three! I hope you'll forgive me for the ever so slightly depressing ending to the chapter. I've got half of chapter four written already, and I can assure you it's full of fun and humour to make up for it. Harry even has a go at some 'pranking', though I won't get into that.

Thanks to my two lovely new betas, magicaltears and teenagemetamorphmagus, who helped me a lot with this chapter. I love you guys : ).

That said, there's nothing else to do except ask for your opinions in the form of a review, and present to you another theme-request for stories. It's quite similar to the last, where I want James in it. I don't suppose anyone knows any good ones where James didn't really die that night on Halloween; he lost his memory, was captured by Death Eaters whilst an impostor faked his death, etc. and he returns to Harry at some point during his Hogwarts years?  
There was another theme, too, but I've completely forgotten what it was. Bad memories suck.

Chapter four will hopefully be up within a couple of weeks. Hope you don't mind the long waits, but until I get properly back into writing... yeah. At least my writers block is nearly completely gone.


	4. Quidditch World Cup

**HP Year 5: Let the War Begin  
**_Chapter 4_

When Harry awoke the next morning it was to find himself not on the floor, where he'd fallen asleep the previous night, but lying on the sofa with a fuzzy, blue blanket wrapped comfortably around him. It took Harry a moment to remember why he was down here in the living room rather than in his bedroom, but when he did remember he let out a long sigh and ran his hand through his already messy hair, ruffling it up even more.

"And the birthday boy's awake at last," came a teasing voice. Harry glanced up and smiled tiredly when he saw Tonks standing at the door with her arms crossed, where her pink hair looked a little messed up as though she'd been running.

"Hey, Tonks," Harry greeted her, untangling himself from the fuzzy blanket and sitting up. "What time's it?"

"Don't worry, you haven't actually slept in," Tonks assured him, uncrossing her arms and entering the room, sitting down on the sofa when Harry moved to make space for her.

"Why're you up then?" Harry frowned.

"Hey!" Tonks protested. "I've gotten up early _plenty_ of times in my life!"

"Most times being when you were a kid and your mum didn't let you sleep in," Harry grinned. "Is it for work?"

"Yes, it was, you good-for-nothing nosy git," Tonks grumbled good-naturedly. "It was a false alarm, though. How are you feeling?"

"Fine, considering I woke up in the middle of the night," Harry smiled softly, trying not to think about _why_ exactly he had woken up in the middle of the night.

"Sirius mentioned that," Tonks nodded, her bright smile slipping a bit. "Are you sure you're okay? He said… well, that it'd gotten to you quite a bit."

"I'm fine," said Harry adamantly. "It was just a – a nightmare. Besides, I'm not going to let _that_ spoil my birthday."

"Right you are," Tonks agreed brightly, her smile coming back. "C'mon, then," she said, grasping Harry's bony wrist and pulling him up. It seemed that, although Harry had finally started putting on some weight, none of it was reaching his wrist. "Moony's in the kitchen making breakfast."

"Happy birthday, Harry," Remus said, ruffling Harry's hair as he sat down at the table.

"Thanks, Moony," Harry smiled. "You want some help?"

"I've got it," Remus assured him, turning back to the cooker.

"Birthday boys don't cook," Tonks scolded him with a grin on her face. "Hey, _Romulus_?" Tonks asked, a teasing smile on her face, "what time's everybody coming at?"

"The Weasleys are coming at two – Molly's going to help cook – and everyone else is coming on time for dinner, _Nymphadora_."

"Remus is short for Romulus?" Harry asked, glancing between the two. He already knew 'Nymphadora' was Tonks' first name.

"Nope," Tonks told him brightly. "But he doesn't like it anyway, and since he likes to tease me about _my_ name…" she shrugged, still smiling.

"What do you two say to some training after breakfast?" Tonks asked a few minutes later. "Like – _fun_ training. Like those stories you've told us before, where James and Sirius had those… 'prank duels' you called them."

"Sounds good," Remus smiled. "Harry?"

"Yeah," he grinned.

And so, after the three had eaten their breakfast and left out a plate (which Remus had placed a heating charm on, to keep it warm) for Sirius, the three eagerly moved to their dubbed training room.

"I don't really know many spells for prank duels," Harry said uncertainly as they reached the room, the thought only just occurring to him.

"That's okay," Tonks assured him. "We'll duel each other then you can tell us which spells you liked, and we'll teach you them. That sound good?"

"Yeah," Harry grinned before settling himself back against the wall, keeping his wand gripped loosely in his hand, ready to cast a quick '_Protego_' if any of the spells came near him. He watched with a silly smile on his face as Remus and Tonks bowed to each other then stepped back, each keeping their wand trained on the other but unwilling to make the first move.

Finally, Tonks swished her wand at Remus. "Puniceus dentibus!"

Remus didn't block it and a second later, instead of a white-toothed grin, his teeth were _purple_. "Engorgio!" he retaliated, his wand pointing at her nose. Tonks snorted as her nose grew, becoming even larger than Severus Snape's.

"Saeta damnum!" said Tonks, her wand slashing through the air. A second later, Remus was bald.

"Tenuis saeta!" Tonks' short, spiky pink hair was replaced by long, pink snake tails poking out of her head. She grimaced, but didn't remove them.

"Gero tutu!" Tonks shot back with a smirk as a frilly pink tutu appeared over Remus' clothes.

" Altus vox vocis!" Remus twirled his wand in the air, and a silvery light hit Tonks on the throat.

"Leo vox vocis!" Tonks returned, wincing as her voice came out in an extremely loud pitch.

"Roar!" came Remus' voice, and Harry had to laugh. To make up for Remus giving her a high voice, Tonks had given Remus the voice of a lion. The spell still worked, though, and soon Tonks was covered in glitter.

By the time Sirius had woken up, heard everyone's laughter and come to investigate, Harry, Remus and Tonks were all a complete and utter mess.

"What the hell?" Sirius asked blankly, staring at them all with wide eyes. Harry glanced at Remus, who winked and glanced at Tonks, who gave a discreet nod of the head, and next second Sirius was being bombarded with lots of different spells; Remus gave him blond hair and turned his pyjamas into a dress, Tonks turned his skin green and enlarged his mouth, making it the largest feature on his face, and Harry covered him in glitter and purple warts.

"Not fair," Sirius whined, looking down at himself. "I didn't even have my wand!"

"Serve you right for sleeping in so late," Tonks managed to scold him in between laughing.

"Serve you right for laughing at me," came Sirius' stern voice, and just as the three other occupants of the room looked up to see what he meant, they found pies being thrown at their faces.

"You'll pay for that one, Black!" Tonks yelled, pointing her wand at him and covering him in slimy green goo.

"Oi!" Sirius growled, wiping the goo away from his eyes. Barely a moment later Tonks found herself covered in melted chocolate.

"Tastes good," Harry grinned, gathering some of it on his finger to lick.

"Harry! Who's side are you on?" Tonks cried.

"Err… I'm on… nobody's side?" he asked uncertainly, before bolting out the door. He was just starting down the stairs when he heard footsteps and felt himself being covered in paint which, when he looked at, was green in colour. He jumped the last few steps then twirled around, turning the stairs into a slide with a quick _"Glisseo!"_ as Tonks reached them.

"Harry!" she groaned, falling on her bum and sliding down what used to be the stairs. _That_ was a handy charm to learn, even if he'd originally learned it to 'escape from Death Eaters in a tall building'. Just as Tonks reached what would have been the last few steps, Harry reversed the charm and grinned as Tonks thumped her way down the last three steps. Then, trying to avoid her revenge, he ran to the kitchen – and bumped into a familiar red-head.

"What the he – Harry?" Ron asked, shocked as he tumbled to the floor with his friend.

"Oh. It's two already?" Harry grinned, jumping up off Ron and running round to dodge behind the table, just as Tonks entered the room.

"It's two already?" she asked, surprised, copying Harry's question. Ron nodded dumbly at her, his mouth open as he stared at her. Well, she _did_ look a mess: snake hair, glittery, a Snape-like nose, she was around half her original height, she had buck-teeth, her fingernails were long and crooked like an evil witch's in a children's fairytale, she had a vague smell of rotten eggs trailing her around and, of course, she was covered in chocolate. She at least had her normal voice back, though.

"Happy birthday – oh!"

"Hello, Mrs Weasley," Tonks smiled at the newcomer who had just stepped out of the fireplace. "I'm afraid you caught us in the middle of a-"

"-prank duel," Sirius finished, grinning as he and Remus entered the kitchen. Those two were just as 'pranked up' as Harry and Tonks were, with all sorts of disfigurements.

"You could've waited for us, at least," Fred mumbled, having just arrived with George. Ginny was the last of the Weasleys (Mr Weasley, Percy, Charlie and Bill couldn't get away from work), who arrived accompanied by Hermione.

"It looks like a bloo – er, I mean, it looks like a war's broken out here. Have you lot seen yourselves?" Ginny asked incredulously, just as Remus coughed up some feathers.

"Prank duel," Harry grinned. "I guess we lost track of the time…" he turned around slowly, glancing at Sirius, Remus and Tonks before bolting to the door. "I get the first shower!"

.

The shower took a long time; some of the things that he had been covered in (like the same green goo that had originally been used against Sirius) were extremely sticky and hard to get rid of, but finally he was free of everything except the abnormally hairy skin, which he quickly fixed with a wave of his wand. He didn't bother drying his hair as he exited the bathroom, knowing it would dry soon on it's own anyway.

Arriving back at the kitchen, he found Molly Weasley and Remus cooking together whilst Sirius, Tonks and the children lazed around the room. Although they had gotten rid of the dresses, tutus, different skin tones and everything else placed on them, Harry's guardians and Tonks still had goo and chocolate on them, which needed more than a simple spell to get rid of.

"I'm next!" Tonks said brightly, dodging out of the room before either Sirius or Remus had even noticed Harry's return.

"Why don't we go to your room, Harry?" Hermione asked in a suspiciously casual voice. Harry frowned a little, glancing around the room before he noticed the _looks_ – they weren't _quite_ glares – that Mrs Weasley kept sending the twins.

"Sure," Harry said slowly, noticing that the attention of all the kids was on him. They all eagerly stood up, following him quickly out of the room.

"What'd you do this time, then?" Harry asked amusedly as he dropped down onto his bed, gazing at the twins. "She wasn't mad before I left."

"They tried to sell some of their joke items to Sirius," Ginny explained before the twins could reply, rolling her eyes. "Mum's still not happy with them wanting to open a joke shop."

"Happy or not, she can't really stop you," Harry sighed, his statement aimed at the twins. "Still going strong, then?"

"Of course!" George beamed.

"We've come up with several new inventions this summer," continued Fred.

"Which we've already successfully sold through owl-order," George grinned.

"All behind mum's back, of course," Fred said, wincing slightly as he apparently imagined his mum finding out what he and his brother were up to.

"So you might want to save our present 'til mum's away," George finished with a bow and a smile.

"Er – right," Harry grinned.

"So, happy birthday, mate," Ron clapped him on the back. This was all the initiative anyone needed, and soon every occupant of the room was wishing him a happy birthday.

"Thanks guys," Harry smiled.

"Seriously, though," Ron said. "What the heck was that when we arrived? You looked…"

"Messy?" Fred smirked.

"Funny?" George grinned.

"Stupid?" Fred tried.

"It was a prank duel," Harry said loudly, speaking over the top of the twins. "I guess Tonks wanted to make sure we were all in good spirits. It was pretty fun… I might need to do things like that more often."

"We have a new prankster joining us, Gred!" George exclaimed brightly.

"Not quite," Harry shook his head, still smiling. "I'm not one for pranking the whole school… maybe Malfoy, though."

"Harry!" Hermione scolded, looking at him with an almost disappointed look in her eyes.

"Lighten up, 'Mione," Harry said as lightly as he could. "It's a safer alternative than hexing him, don't you think?"

"You shouldn't be doing anything to him at all!" Hermione retorted.

"So I'm supposed to just stand by while he talks about – about V-Viktor, and whatever his daddy's told him?" Harry asked coolly. "Surely even you realise he's going to be a pain this year… you saw him at the end of term, on the train. That _wasn't_ a one-off, and you know it."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said quietly. "You're right – but… just, don't _start_ anything, okay? If he starts a fight, then I suppose you really have every right to get him back."

"That's what I meant, anyway," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "You ought to know me better than that," he grinned, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere. "I don't intentionally pick fights – unless it's with Tonks," he added as an afterthought. His friends grinned back at him.

.

People started to arrive at five o'clock, most of them coming by Floo or Apparition. Some of them, though, chose to arrive at the door, which was starting to irritate everyone; whenever the bell rang, the old portrait of Sirius' mum which hung in the wall would start to shriek. Harry hadn't ever noticed it before, as this was the first time the door had ever been used – even for Order meetings, everyone stuck to Floo or Apparition.

"Isn't there any way to shut her up?" Harry grumbled to Sirius after they let a slightly-drunk looking Mundungus through the door.

"We tried removing her portrait, but it's been stuck with a permanent-sticking charm," Sirius shook his head, heading over to the portrait of his mum. "Ready?" he asked, clutching one of the curtains.

"Yeah," Harry said, heading over to the second one; Sirius preferred to have his _mum_ covered up. "No," he said, letting go of the curtain.

"Sorry?" Sirius raised an eyebrow at him.

"Is taking her portrait down the only thing you've tried?" Harry asked, struggling to make himself heard over Mrs Black's shrieks. '_Half-breeds, mutants, freaks, be gone from this place!"_

"Yes," Sirius replied uncertainly, not understanding what Harry was getting at. Harry grinned back at his godfather before pulling out his wand and aiming it at what would technically be his god-grandmother.

"Occulto sursum," Harry said quietly, grinning as a cloth wrapped itself around his _grandmother's_ mouth, refusing to let any sound through.

"Why didn't I think of that?" Sirius asked, nonplussed as he stared at the now silent, yet deadly angry, portrait of Mrs Black.

"Because you're lame?" Harry suggested, grinning.

"Shut it, you," Sirius grinned back, leaning over to ruffle Harry's hair affectionately. "That was some good thinking you had." Harry shrugged slightly, still uncomfortable with receiving praise from his guardians.

"We should get back," Harry said finally, ducking under Sirius' arm and racing him to the kitchen.

Harry, having had a head start, beat Sirius to the kitchen and snatched the only empty chair (which was beside Kingsley Shacklebolt; a black man who worked for the Ministry as an Auror and was an important member of the Order – he also happened to be one of the Order members that Harry got along with best; he worked with Tonks and had started to pick up on her effervescent attitude, though a less… _severe_ version of it). Harry smiled sweetly as Sirius glared at him, finally rolling his eyes and conjuring a chair for himself and sitting down beside Mundungus and the Weasley twins.

"Having a good day then, Harry?" Kingsley enquired politely. Aside from a 'happy birthday' when he had arrived, Kingsley hadn't yet talked to Harry.

"Yeah," Harry grinned at the older man. "I suppose you'll have heard about the duel now. Gred and Forge were pretty upset to have missed it."

"Yes, I do recall them mentioning that," Kingsley smiled.

"How're things at the Ministry?" Harry asked curiously.

"Same as ever," Kingsley shrugged unhelpfully. "We're working our hardest to capture Death Eaters, but most don't seem to be straying far from Voldemort at the moment, aside from the few _Muggle_ attacks."

"Is that a good or a bad thing?"

"Could be either," Kingsley shrugged again. "We'd best not dwell on it, though. I doubt Sirius would be happy to find us discussing such depressing topics on your birthday."

"Birthdays are over-rated anyway," Harry murmured under his breath. Kingsley heard this but, knowing of Harry's past with the Dursleys, didn't comment on it.

By five-thirty, everyone had arrived. Mr and Mrs Weasley, Percy, Fred and George, Ron and Ginny, Hermione, Luna, Neville, Cedric and Cho, several Order members, Severus and, of course, his guardians and Tonks were there.

At a quarter to six, Mrs Weasley called everyone to the kitchen, where everyone sat at a magically-expanded table, for dinner.

"This is amazing, Molly!" Tonks gushed, having never had the chance to taste Mrs Weasley's cooking before.

"Thank you, Tonks, dear," Mrs Weasley smiled. "I would hope to have _some_ skill after feeding such a large family for all these years." Tonks grinned at that, returning her attention back to her 'god-like food'.

"How's the Auror training going?" Harry asked Cedric, who was sitting beside Cho and opposite Harry.

"It's great," Cedric grinned enthusiastically. "It's really hard, though. They work you non-stop, I swear. Half the time I can barely move from my muscles aching… they've got a really tough exercise scheme to get you into shape. I'm starting to wish I'd been more like you in Hogwarts."

"More like me?" Harry asked, confused.

"You exercise a lot, you dunce," Ginny grinned, slapping Harry lightly on the back of the head. "Your morning runs, and I _know_ you lift weights in the Room of Requirements sometimes."

"Well, yeah, but that's… It's not like I do a _lot_," Harry mumbled.

"It's more than anyone else does, I can assure you," Cedric grinned. "Stop being so modest."

"I'm not!" Harry protested instantly. Seeing his friends' expressions, he rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I only wanted to know how it was going, not get into an _argument_ of all things."

"Sorry," Cedric smiled sheepishly. "What about you, then? Still training?"

"Of course," Harry said, trying to sound hurt that his friend would think otherwise, and failing. "Pretty much every day."

"Are you sure you're not overworking yourself, mate?" Ron asked from a few seats along.

"Dunno," Harry shrugged. "Doesn't matter, really. I enjoy it, and it'll help keep me safe against… well, _anything_, really."

"Atta boy, Harry," Fred grinned.

Naturally, after dinner, Mrs Weasley kept everyone at the table and brought out a cake that, like last year, she herself had baked. This time it was in the shape of a large, red dragon rather than a golden snitch. She'd charmed it, too; when Harry blew out the candles the dragon blew a small flame out of its mouth, threatening to set the table on fire. The cake was just as delicious, if not more so, than the cake from last year, even if a heavy feeling had settled in Harry's stomach from looking at it. _Viktor was still alive the last time I saw that dragon_.

"C'mon, guys," Tonks yelled over the noise. "If you're done with the cake, it's time for presents!"

When the tables were cleared of all plates, food and cutlery, and the presents had appeared, Harry couldn't help but gape at the small mountain of presents sitting there. He had nearly as many as Dudley usually received on _his_ birthdays, if not more, and that was saying a lot – Dudley was the most spoilt brat Harry knew of.

"Don't just stand around, Harry," Tonks grinned, pushing him down onto one of the seats. "Start opening them!"

And so he did. He worked his way through the presents, banishing the paper as he unwrapped them all. He received books, sweets, prank items, broom-care kits, fancy quills, posters of Quidditch players (the wizarding equivalent of celebrity posters, he guessed) and many more things. The best present of all had to be the ticket he got from Sirius and Remus; they were going to the Quidditch World Cup! It would be their first 'outing' as a family, technically speaking, and it would be a lot more fun than a day out to the zoo, or whatever else families usually did with their kids. As he'd promised the twins, when he found their gift, he used a bit of wandless magic to shrink it without anyone noticing and slipped it into his pocket. He grinned at the barely-audible sighs of relief the twins let out when they noticed this, and each of them looked far more relaxed now that they knew their mum wasn't going to find an excuse to blow up at them.

It was eight-thirty when people started to leave; no-one, it seemed, wanted to end up as drunk as they had last year, when they'd stayed far later. The Weasleys and Hermione were the last to leave, and they promised they'd see him again soon.

"We can't let you live in the library again, after all," Ron had grinned, clapping him on the back before stepping into the floo.

.

The summer, after that, passed mostly uneventfully. He still spent a lot of his time training or reading, but he also went to the Weasleys at least once a week where more often than not he would end up playing Quidditch with the twins, Ron and Ginny. Said siblings also occasionally joined Harry whilst he was being trained, mainly watching and asking a question here and there. Harry had promised to teach them some of the things he'd learned when they got back to Hogwarts.

Fleur wrote to him a couple of times, though she didn't say too much other than that she was working with Bill, and that she hoped Harry was okay. Cedric wrote, too, and talked about Auror training – at least, the parts that Tonks or Kingsley hadn't already told Harry.

Two weeks after his birthday, Harry headed down to the kitchen for his breakfast, still blinking tiredly and expecting his day to be normal; breakfast, mess about, training then relax. However, when he arrived there he had to stop and blink several times to make sure he wasn't still half asleep.

"What's this?" Harry asked, still somewhat surprised through his sleepy state. "Did I miss another prank duel?"

"Indeed you did," Remus smiled. "Actually, we wanted to talk to you about something."

"Oh?" Harry asked curiously, pouring some milk into his bowl of cereal. He wasn't really in the mood for bacon… or eggs… or sausages…

"We want to give you Marauder lessons," Sirius blurted out, apparently struggling to hold the knowledge in. Harry blinked, dropped his spoon into his bowl, then blinked again.

"War's a depressing time," Remus explained. "And humour is one of the few ways to counter the effects. Pranks are a relatively harmless way to keep everybody's spirits up-"

"-not to mention fun to pull off!" Sirius finished. "Plus, you'll have the added advantage of being naturally good at it… well, if you've taken after James, anyway."

"Marauder lessons," Harry said slowly, gazing at the two with a raised eyebrow. His guardians nodded at him, Sirius doing so with a ridiculously large grin on his face. Harry turned back to his breakfast bowl to hide the amused smile that was creeping onto his face.

"Okay, then. Sounds good."

By the time the Quidditch World Cup arrived, Harry had successfully learned how to Apparate. Sirius and Remus would not, however, let him Apparate to the forest beside the campsite (after the match, they were going to stay the night in the campsite with the Weasleys, Hermione, Neville and Luna in order to celebrate), and so Harry found himself standing with Remus' arm wrapped around him, the older man preparing to Apparate the both of them.

"Ready?" Remus asked, waiting for Harry to nod before turning on the spot and causing them both to disappear from the kitchen of number twelve, Grimmauld Place.

.

The three appeared with a slight _crack!_ sound in the middle of a dark forest.

"Creepy place," Harry remarked after he'd recovered from the ever unpleasant feeling of Apparition, pulling his jacket tighter around him against the chill.

"Yeah, they could do with some lights in here," Sirius agreed, glancing around. "C'mon, then. We'd best go find Arthur. He said the tents were close to the forest."

"Do you even know what way to go?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Err…"

"I think I know the way," Remus said with a small smile, stepping away from them.

"Thank Merlin I have _one_ clever guardian," Harry grinned, jumping away as Sirius tried to attack him. Unluckily for him, as he jumped he tripped over a tree root and landed sprawled on the dirty ground. Pushing himself up, he grimaced as he found a slightly-squashed worm trying to escape from under his hand.

"That's your fault," Harry pouted as Sirius pulled him up.

"How'd you figure that out?" he asked, as he pulled Harry along. Remus, apparently, couldn't be bothered slowing down to accommodate for their teasing.

"Everything's your fault," Harry grinned, poking out his tongue.

"S'always the parents' fault," Sirius shook his head with a dramatic sigh. "What is it with you teenagers?"

"Look who's talking!" Harry shot back, jumping over another large tree root. "You're a bigger teen than – err…"

"Yes?" Sirius asked innocently.

"Push off," Harry grinned, shoving his godfather a little.

"Moony!" Sirius whined. "Harry's bullying me again!"

"Surely you can defend yourself against a kid, Sirius," Remus called over exasperatedly, turning around in time to catch sight of Sirius' pout.

"Not this one," Sirius shook his head with a grin, and Harry could hear some pride in Sirius' voice that nearly made him blush.

"I hear voices," Harry said suddenly. Well, it was more laughter, but he could hear the odd shout or two. Come to think about it, the forest around him was starting to look… well, less dark.

It didn't take them long to finish the rest of their journey, and soon they found themselves in a campsite unlike any Harry had ever seen before. Well, he'd never _been_ to one, for obvious reasons, but he'd seen pictures once in a book. Why he'd had a travel book, he couldn't remember, but he knew campsites were usually _far_ less busy than this.

"Any idea where Arthur and the kids are?" Sirius asked, glancing around and finding only people that he'd never seen in his life.

"They said they were near the forest," Remus shrugged unhelpfully. "They also said they were near the path, so it's obviously not at this side. A path would have made it much easier to navigate."

"If it's easy, it's boring," Sirius quipped, glancing at Harry before moving forward and leading both Harry and Remus away. "I suppose we'll just have to look around."

"I hadn't realized how much I've come to depend on the Marauders Map," Harry mused as they trailed throughout the numerous tents, each with their own fancy characteristics as the owners tried to show off. Harry understood that perhaps they wanted to seem respectable, or whatever they were trying to appear as, but the one that looked like a palace and had live peacocks strutting around in it's fake garden was quite simply taking it _too_ far. "I'm so used to being able to glance at that and find who I'm looking for."

"I know what you mean, kiddo," Sirius grinned. "I've contemplated making similar maps for Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley and the Ministry before for that very same reason."

"That's just laziness, Sirius. Besides, it's easy to find someone at the Ministry. If you ask someone, they'll know someone who knows where your friend is."

"Stop over-complicating things, Moony," Sirius shot back with a small pout. "I'm not _lazy_. Might I remind you that it is _I_ who works on Harry with the _physical_ training, whilst you stand around waving your wand?"

"Might I remind _you_ who once had to beat up a Death Eater because you got drunk and lost both our wands?"

"You didn't have to bring that up," Sirius said, wincing a little.

"You beat up a Death Eater?" Harry asked as he looked at Remus, impressed.

"Not as weak as I look, am I?" Remus asked as though he'd read Harry's mind, smiling when Harry gave him a sheepish look.

Thanks to the long walk needed to find the Weasleys, Harry ran into several of his school friends. Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, the Creevey brothers and Oliver Wood (who was now a reserve Keeper for the Puddlemere United Quidditch team). A few students Harry didn't recognise had also approached them to greet Remus and Sirius, remember Remus from the year before last when he taught DADA, and Sirius from just before Christmas last year when he took over DADA for a short period of time (after the Moody impostor had been found out). It was about ten minutes after a second year Ravenclaw had greeted them that Harry noticed a flash of red hair accompanied by a blur of bushy brown hair. He didn't know of any other redheads who had a bushy, curly brown-haired friend, so it _had_ to be them. Taking a chance, he yelled towards them.

"Ron! Hermione!"

The two figures both stopped walking and turned to face Harry, and even from a distance he could see wide smiles on their faces as both then darted towards himself, Sirius and Remus.

"Thank Merlin," Sirius grumbled. "Now we can stop searching."

"You've been looking for us?" Ron repeated as Hermione hugged Harry. "Oh – I guess you don't know where we set the tent up."

"Mr Weasley is enjoying himself with the matches," Hermione told Harry with a small smile as the now group of five started moving, led by Ron and Hermione.

"Err…?"

"Every time he lights one, he gets surprised and he drops it," Hermione explained, and Harry couldn't help but snort.

"What sort of tents has he got?" he asked curiously, hoping Mr Weasley wasn't trying to fit in with another three-story tent, plus chimney.

"Normal muggle ones," Hermione smiled. "Or, they look like it. They're magical on the inside. He borrowed them from a friend at the Ministry. Luna and her father set their tents up next to ours."

"Luna's here? I didn't know she was coming," Harry mused. "Who's sleeping where?"

"I don't really know," Hermione admitted.

"You, me, Neville and the twins are sharing one tent," Ron explained. "It's the largest – and the smelliest. Ginny and Hermione have a smaller tent to themselves, and Sirius, Remus and dad are sharing a tent."

"Cool," Harry grinned. His grin widened as he noticed a crowd of redheads up ahead, accompanied by familiar heads of brown and blonde. As they got closer, Harry could see that Hermione was right. Mr Weasley was squatting beside a pile of firewood, a box of matches clutched in his hand and numerous broken matches littering the ground around him.

"Afternoon, Arthur," Sirius greeted brightly as the group finally reached Mr Weasley.

"Sirius!" Mr Weasley stood up, away from the pile of wood, smiling. "Remus, Harry. I was wondering when you lot would turn up."

"They couldn't find you," Ron chimed in, grinning. "C'mon, Harry. I'll show you the tents."

"Hermione was right, then," Harry said, gazing at the three (four, if you included Luna's) average-sized, muggle-looking tents.

"Yeah," Ron nodded, leading Harry over to the one nearest the forest and ducking inside. Harry followed, and found himself staring at a multi-roomed tent; a bedroom, a bathroom and a small kitchen. "This is Dad's one," Ron explained, before leading Harry back out and into the middle tent. This one was a little smaller, though not by much, and had the same rooms. "This one's for Ginny and Hermione."

The last one, obviously, was for Harry, Ron, Neville and the twins. It was nearly twice the size of the other two and had bunk beds rather than single ones, in order for them all to fit.

"Do we get to see you now?" Ginny teased after Harry had left the last tent. Harry smiled slightly as he nodded at her impatient face. "Good," she grinned, pulling him over to where Neville and Luna were sitting. Glancing back slightly, Harry could see Hermione and Ron following.

"Fred and George got dad mad already," Ginny told him as they sat down on the grass outside Luna's tent. Inside, Harry could see someone moving about, who he assumed was Luna's father.

"They have?" Harry asked, curious as to what they'd done.

"They made a bet with Bagman," Neville explained. "They used _all_ of their money. Mr Weasley couldn't really stop them, though."

"Yeah, he isn't as scary as mum," Ron nodded, sitting down next to Harry. Harry grinned.

"I hadn't realized Bagman would be here," Harry said, his mind finally registering the name Neville had said.

"He's the head of the Magical Sports department, of course he's here," Hermione told him logically. "He was actually asking for you, asking if anyone had seen you."

"I'll be careful to avoid him, then," Harry said, smiling slightly.

"Why?" Ron asked, ever the slow one.

"Think, Ron," Ginny scowled, hitting her brother lightly on the head. "What's Bagman going to want to talk about?"

"Oh – right," Ron said sheepishly, comprehension dawning in his eyes.

"So what was their bet?" Harry asked, steering the conversation away from Bagman.

" France will win, but our Seeker will get the snitch," Ron told him, chuckling slightly. "They're bonkers."

"It's definitely a… err, a specific bet," Harry said uncertainly before shrugging. "It's _their_ money. Guess we'll just have to wait and see."

.

By the time for the match arrived, Harry was feeling giddy with excitement. He wasn't the only one, either; Ginny, Neville and the twins had eager grins on their faces and Ron looked almost excited enough to wet himself. Sirius was just as bad as Harry, though really that was to be expected with Sirius' child-like attitude to most things.

His Omnioculars (they were essentially magical items that were just like Muggle binocculars) and his wand safely tucked in his pocket, Harry joined his friends and the group (adults in front; children behind) made their way towards the Quidditch pitch. It was hard not to get caught up in the euphoric atmosphere, and soon Harry found himself joining in with everyone else as they sand Quidditch chants at the top of their voices, following the lantern-lit trail through the forest.

Emerging from the forest, Harry found himself staring at what appeared to be a large, golden dome. It was _glowing_ with magic that was so strong he could feel it tickling his skin (in a much nicer way than Dark magic did).

"Wow," he breathed, gazing up at the dome with wide eyes. Even Hogwarts' castle didn't radiate magic like this.

"Less gaping, more walking," Sirius teased lightly, pushing Harry forward. "We have a lot of stairs to climb, being in the top box."

Harry nodded dumbly, allowing Sirius to propel him forwards and into the 'dome'. He barely noticed as Mr Weasley handed all the tickets over to a Ministry worker; he was looking around. The stadium was _huge_ and had literally thousands of seats squashed into it.

"Harry," came a soft voice, and Harry glanced round to see Remus watching him with a soft, amused look. "Amazing as it all is, I think we ought to get to our seats, don't you?"

Again, Harry nodded, allowing himself to be herded up what felt like never-ending stairs. Eventually, though, they reached the top box and sidled to their seats; Harry had Sirius and Remus on one side of him and Ron, Hermione, Neville and Luna on the other whilst Mr Weasley, Ginny, the twins and Luna's father sat behind them. Opposite them was a large bold, where numerous advertisements were flashing; Wizardwear, new broom models, new businesses…

Harry's attention was drawn to the arrival of whoever was to occupy the final seats in the top box, and when he saw who it was he couldn't help but groan. Loudly. This got the attention of those sitting nearest him – mainly Sirius, Remus, Ron and Hermione – who all looked at him curiously. In answer, Harry merely inclined his head towards the latest guests, and soon Ron had let out a similar groan whilst Sirius' and Remus' faces had hardened. The final three seats, it seemed, were to be occupied by none other than Narcissa, Lucius and Draco Malfoy. All three turned their noses up when they saw who they were sitting with but, miraculously (probably due to Sirius and Remus, who could be very intimidating when the need arose) managed to keep their mouths shut. Harry was half-tempted to hex Malfoy on the spot; he hadn't forgotten Malfoy's comment on Viktor at the end of last term, but Remus seemed to sense how he was feeling and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, effectively cooling his temper.

Eventually, Bagman climbed to the top box and, using the same _Sonorus_ charm as he'd used to commentate at the Tasks last year, greeted the stadium before introducing the Quidditch teams; "Thomson, McNab, Campbell, Sharp, McGibbon, Hogan and Murray," for England and "Moreau, Fitzroy, Benoit, Gaudet, Rousseau, Martin and Leroy!" for France.

As their names were called, each team member would zoom onto the field, each barely more than a blur as they pushed their Firebolt brooms to the limit, going far faster than even Harry ever had. Soon the teams were flying together, doing laps around the stadium and doing loops in the air, each player eager to show off their talent.

When the game did start, Harry was glad he'd bought the Omnioculars; even sitting in the top box, it was hard to see everything. With the Omnioculars he could zoom in, or even replay what he'd already seen. He focused especially on Thomson and Moreau, as they were the two seekers and he was hoping to pick up some tips from them. Ron, he knew, would be focusing on the two keepers; McGibbon and Rousseau, the twins on the beaters and on the chasers. Hermione, Luna and Neville were the only unbiased (teenage) spectators in the group.

The players, for their part, were amazing. The chasers worked brilliantly together, with a skilled perfection that even Gryffindor's Quidditch team didn't have despite the three chasers being best friends. The players seemed to be able to read each others minds, always knowing what their team mates were going to do, and always ready to catch the Quaffle. The Beaters had better aim than even Fred and George Weasley, and only narrowly missed their targets – though if their opponents had been on slower brooms, there was no doubt that every attempt would hit. The Keepers were hard to get past; they moved so fast whenever the Quaffle flew at them. And the Seekers…

Harry watched, awed, as Thomson and Moreau skimmed around the stadium, each keeping their eyes open for the Snitch, though occasionally they would go off to help the chasers by veering opposing chasers off course. Moreau had already pulled off a Wronski Feint (basically, the Seeker dived and pulled out at the last minute in an attempt to confuse the opposing Seeker) marvellously, though Thomson had caught on to what Moreau was doing at the last minute and had avoiding flying head-first into the ground.

"Watch out!" Fred yelled, just as a gasp went around the crowd. The English beaten, Hogan, had missed the Bludger he was trying to hit; it had instead rammed into his face, knocking him off this broom.

"Somebody catch him!" Hermione shouted worriedly, just as Murray (the other Beater) did in fact catch his team mate, lowering him to the ground where a mediwizard instantly ran out.

It wasn't long before Hogan was back up in the air and the game resumed.

The longer the game lasted, the faster everyone seemed to move. It was getting hard to keep up, even with the help of Harry's Omnioculars. Eventually, however, the Seekers had found the snitch. The crowd started chanting the name of the Seeker they wanted to win, but Harry barely noticed; he was focused solely on watching the twos Seekers.

Just when he thought Moreau was going to get it, Thomson nudged the French Seeker's hand out of the way and snatched up the Snitch triumphantly. England had caught the Snitch, but France had won. Behind him, Harry heard two simultaneous exclamations of "Yes!"

.

Walking back to the campsite, the air was once again filled with happy singing, even by English wizards.

"Think you can make keeper now, then?" Harry asked Ron with a grin.

"If I copy McGibbon, yeah! He was amazing – how did he move so fast?"

"His broom, practice," Harry said vaguely. Ron swatted him on the arm.

"Prat," the redhead grumbled good-naturedly, rolling his eyes as behind him the twins started to sing.

"Shame it didn't last longer," Ginny said, coming over to walk beside them. "Last time it lasted five days."

"Seriously?" Harry asked, his mouth dropping open in surprise.

"Yeah. A lot of people think the Snitch escaped for awhile," Ron sniggered.

"Wish it could've lasted that long this time," Harry said wistfully.

"We wouldn't have been able to watch it, though," Ron said, shaking his head. "School in two days, remember?"

"I suppose," Harry agreed. "Y'know, it's a shame Fleur couldn't come. She likes watching Quidditch."

"I think she'll be just fine with Bill," Ginny said, a knowing glint in her eye that left Harry a little confused. Before he could ask, though, Ginny had sidled away to talk to Hermione. Harry glanced at Ron, but his best friend only shrugged in reply, obviously not understanding either.

When they reached their tents, the group split up to head into their own tent. Nobody stayed up for long, feeling thoroughly exhausted even though they'd simply been _watching_ the game.

"Night, guys," Harry called sleepily, climbing onto the bunk above Ron. Only Neville replied with a blurry 'Night, Harry'; everyone else was already asleep. It didn't take long for Harry to join the Weasleys in dreamland, falling onto a broomstick in midair and taking the role of Thomson in the match he'd just watched.

.

It felt like only minutes later someone was yelling for him to get up. Harry instantly shot up in bed, blinking blearily as he recognised Remus' voice.

"Get up, come on," he was saying urgently. "Just stick your shoes and a jacket on, and hurry."

"Whuzzgoin' on?" Fred asked groggily, even as he sat up and started pulling his shoes on. Remus was already gone, though. Harry jumped down from his bunk, not bothering to use the ladder, and slipped his shoes on. Whilst he was searching for his jacket, he became aware of screams outside.

"What's happening?" Neville asked worriedly, his shoes and jacket already on and his wand clutched in a slightly-shaky hand.

"Have a guess," said Harry, who was already thinking of Voldemort. "Who likes to cause trouble and scare people?"

"Let's go," George said after glancing around to make sure everyone was ready. Harry nodded, following him out the tent.

"Go into the forest and _stick together_, all right?" Mr Weasley told them sternly, the only adult still sticking around. Ginny, Hermione and Luna were standing beside him, somehow managing to look both sleepy and alert at the same time. Mr Weasley waited until everyone had nodded before pushing them towards the forest and rushing off to where Harry could see spells flying through the air.

"Let's go," George said, repeating his comment from inside the tent earlier, pushing Harry and Ron towards the forest.

Away from the lantern-lit trail, the forest was extremely dark.

"Lumos," Harry said quietly, lighting his wand to help him see. "The Ministry isn't going to care, Hermione," he said in response to the look she sent him. After a moment, she nodded and lit her own wand, closely followed by everyone else. They were surrounded by children of all ages, some with their parents. It made the forests seem overcrowded; nobody wanted to go too far in and were crowded around the edge of the forest. Harry and Fred led the group, pushing through the crowds, trying to find a slightly emptier part to stand at. When they finally did reach a small clearing, away from the crowd, they turned around and groaned. The only person with them was Ginny.

"They got pushed back by the crowd, I think," Ginny told them shakily, her eyes wide. "They'll be okay, won't they?"

"They'll be fine," Harry assured her after glancing at Fred. "They're surrounded by witches and wizards, they'll be fine."

"Should we look for them?"

"We won't find them," Fred shook his head before Harry could reply. "You saw the crowd, Gin. It'll be like looking for hay in a needle-stack."

"It's a needle in a haystack," Harry corrected Fred with a small smile. "We'll just stay here, right? When we hear things die down, we'll head back to the tent."

"Will _we_ be okay here?" Ginny asked, glancing around them uneasily. "It's all deserted here."

"Don't leave yourself stuck in an open-space," Harry murmured to himself, causing Ginny and Fred to stare at him. "That's what Moony told me… we were okay when there was a group of us, but maybe we _should_ go back towards everyone else now."

"Yeah, I've got a bad feeling about sticking around here," Fred agreed, resting a hand on Ginny's shoulder to push her back towards the way the came. Just as they were about to start walking, though, Harry lunged at them, knocking all three of them to the ground as a purple spell soared high over their heads.

"Too late now," Harry grumbled, pushing himself back up and holding his wand out in front of him. Fred and Ginny coped him a moment later, all three of them turning on the spot, trying to see their attackers. It wasn't long before Harry noticed four cloaked figures walking towards them out of the trees.

"Death Eaters," Ginny said to herself quietly, pointing her wand at them. Harry threw up a shield in front of her as a red light shot towards her.

"Who do we have here?" a soft voice drawled. "Two Weasleys and the ever-famous Potter."

"I want the girl," a colder voice said, cruel amusement tingeing it. Seeing an orange spell shooting towards him, Harry threw up a quick shield, but that left Ginny defenceless and she was struck by a red spell barely a second later.

"It was only Stupefy," Fred told him quietly, and Harry nodded. So long as she was unconscious, that was okay.

The four figures then started walking towards them and Harry backed up a little until he was standing directly beside Fred.

"When I say, stun the two on the left, right?"

Fred didn't reply, but Harry knew he had heard him.

"Now!" Harry hissed, raising his wand and shooting two "Stupefy!"'s at the two Death Eaters on the right. Only the two outside Death Eaters fell, which seemed to anger the remaining two Death Eaters who instantly started flinging spells and curses at the two. Harry found himself being slowly separated from Fred and Ginny as he battled his Death Eater, trying to do everything he had in his training. He dodged an orange spell, dropped to one knee and threw a stunner, rolled to the side, threw a confusement charm, jumped back up, stepped to the side to avoid what looked like the Cruciatus curse.

"You've been taught well," the Death Eater said, his voice making it obvious that he was smirking. "You're playing with fire, though, kid. Do you really believe you can take on a Death Eater?"

Dodge, step back, drop to one knee. Harry gasped as a cutting curse slashed across his stomach. He didn't have time to check it, though, as he threw himself to the side and threw another stunner at the Death Eater. A quick shield easily deflected the spell back at Harry, who rolled across the ground, groaning as it put pressure on his injured stomach. He felt his face pale slightly as he realized there was dark red liquid on the ground beneath him. He quickly got back to his feet, breathing heavily against the pain as he threw more spells at the Death Eater; stunners, stinging hexes, throwing fire at him; anything that came to mind, really. He smiled triumphantly as his fire burned the Death Eater's hand, causing him to drop his wand. Taking his chance, Harry threw a stunner at the Death Eater, who slumped to the ground unconscious. After using _Incarcerous_ to tie the Death Eater up, Harry turned to help Fred. The Death Eater had his back to Harry and was unable to see the stunner sent at him. Once he had slumped to the ground and been bound by Harry, Harry turned to look at Fred, relieved to see nothing worse than a small cut on Fred's face.

"Bloody hell, mate!" Fred exclaimed, his whole face paling. "What'd that bastard do to you?"

"Cutting curse," Harry told him tightly, stumbling over to a tree and sliding down it until he was sitting on the root, with his back leaning against the trunk. "Don't suppose you know any healing charms? I can't heal anything more than a paper cut."

"We don't learn First Aid 'til after Christmas in seventh year," Fred shook his head. "How deep is it?"

"Bloody deep enough," Harry ground out. "Can't believe I didn't dodge it." He glanced past Fred at Ginny who was still lying, unconscious. "Best wake her up," he told Fred, motioning his head towards Ginny. Fred nodded, heading over to her and casting 'Ennervate'.

The best they could do whilst they waited was have Fred conjure a cloth, which Harry held against his still-bleeding stomach. The blood did, at least, seem to be slowing down – but so did Harry. He felt himself slipping away; his vision blurring, his concentration slipping.

"Stay awake, Harry," Ginny tapped his cheeks. "If there's anything I've learned over the years, it's that you need to keep injured people awake." Harry nodded groggily, knowing she was right. He had to stay awake.

"Havn'they got ever'fing sort'd yet?" he slurred.

"Apparently not," Ginny scowled. "How long does it take to stun a few Death Eaters?"

"There'll be more than just a few, Ginny," Fred said softly. "It took us awhile to knock out those two," he added, pointing his thumb towards the Death Eaters he and Harry had been fighting.

"Yes, but Aurors and Ministry workers know a lot more about duelling!"

"And a lot of Death Eaters are harder to fight than those two," Fred argued back. "Look," he said, lowering his voice. "I'm worried, too, but we need to keep calm. Why don't you go keep an eye out, and yell if you see anyone coming."

"What if it's Death Eaters?"

"Stun them. I'll be watching; if you stun anything I'll come help. Right now I'm going to try and keep Harry awake, all right?"

"Okay," Ginny sighed, glancing at Harry once more before moving off to get a clear look around the trees. After watching his sister worriedly for a few moments, Fred turned back to Harry and helped him hold the now-red cloth against his stomach; Harry's strength was slipping fast.

"Just hold in there," Fred said in as strong a voice as he could muster. "We'll have help here soon."

What felt like hours later, Fred look up to see Ginny running towards him, closely followed by Sirius, Remus, Mr Weasley, Mr Lovegood and all the children.

"See? I told you help would come," Fred told Harry quietly.

"Yuh," Harry slurred vaguely aware of someone picking him up. He winced as the movement irritated his stomach, letting out a small whimper of pain. Knowing he was safe now, Harry stopped fighting the urge to sleep and sank blissfully into darkness.

* * *

Here we go : ) Sorry, I know I promised this would be a really cheerful chapter, but when I was writing the last scene _something_ told me to injure Harry. Like the Imperius curse, but impossible to fight off... it was mostly cheerful, though, so I do hope you'll forgive me! Also, please excuse the lack of 'Marauder lessons'. I'm not much in the mood to write about his first lessons... I'd rather write about the lessons once he's gained some skill, and write about the actual pranks he pulls - speakig of which, if anyone has any good prank ideas (doesn't matter who he plays them on), I'm all ears!

Now, I have a quick question before I upload this: can anybody tell me the correct way to pronounce Lycanthropy? It's been bugging me for weeks!

/editted on 20th Jan 08/ I fixed a little part, where I made out Cedric died rather than Viktor. My beta pointed it out to be, and yet I still uploaded the chapter without fixing it! Woops.


	5. Return to Hogwarts

**HP Year 5: Let the War Begin  
**_Chapter 5_

When Harry awoke it was to find himself lying in a comfortable bed, feeling abnormally disorientated. He blinked at his blurry surroundings and pushed himself up on his bed, leaning over to nab his glasses off his drawers and place them on his nose, bringing the room into focus.

"What about the match?" Harry asked himself, glancing around his room. Just as he tried to stand, a small amount of pain in his stomach made him hiss and everything came tumbling back to him; the game, the Death Eaters. He bit his lip slightly before standing up, ignoring his pain and dressing. Sally wasn't here, so he walked down to the kitchen alone. It was just after noon, so he suspected both his guardians would be there, having lunch.

"Hey," Harry said softly, standing at the kitchen door. Sirius dropped his fork onto his plate with a clatter before jumping up, stepping forward and enveloping Harry in a tight embrace.

"Bloody hell, kiddo. You had me worried."

"Sorry," Harry said sheepishly, pulling away. "It's not like I asked to be attacked, though."

"Of course not," Remus agreed, smiling. He, too, had stood up and now pulled Harry into a hug. "You had us all worried, though. You lost a lot of blood to that curse."

"What curse was that, by the way?" Harry asked suddenly as he pulled away from Remus. "I've been hit with cutting curses before, but they don't hurt after they've healed."

"It's not too bad, is it?" Sirius asked, concern immediately appearing on his face.

"It's fine," Harry assured him.

"It was a vaguely dark curse," Remus explained after a moment as he and Sirius led Harry towards the kitchen table, pushing him gently down onto one of the chairs. "Poppy healed it fine, but she says it'll hurt for a few days."

"Okay," Harry nodded his acceptance. Pain, after all, was nothing new to him. "What… what happened back there?"

"Voldemort decided to scare some people," Sirius told him darkly. "I have to admit, though, I'm surprised he waited so long. Two months, and he's done nothing."

"So more things like this will happen?" Harry asked, frowning.

"Perhaps not on as large a scale, but essentially yes," Remus said softly. "If people aren't scared, he loses power. In the last war he attacked a lot of places; Diagon Alley, Muggle shopping malls – anywhere that had a lot of people gathered. Amongst that, he had smaller groups of Death Eaters go out weekly to torture Muggle or 'blood-traitor' families."

"Does _he_ ever actually go, or does he just send his lapdogs?"

"Mainly just his Death Eaters," said Sirius, smirking at the term 'lapdogs'. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked as Harry winced whilst moving position on his chair.

"You said it'd hurt for a few days," Harry brushed him off.

"It should be close to healed by now!" Sirius protested. "It shouldn't be making you wince!"

"Look, it's _fine_, okay?" Harry shot back, not wanting to be faced with an over-protective godfather at the moment. "Let's just forget about it, okay? We only have two days left."

"One," Remus corrected quietly.

"One?" Harry blinked. "But – wait; I slept for a whole day?"

"It was dark magic," Remus shrugged unhelpfully. "You needn't look so worried though. Sirius has a little something to tell you."

"Er, okay," Harry said uncertainly as he turned his questioning green gaze to Sirius.

"Don't laugh," Sirius told him sternly. Harry blinked at him; why would he laugh? Unless he'd found himself a lady dog… "Meet your new Defence teacher; Professor Padfoot!"

"You're – what? Er, wow. Um, congratulations?"

"You're not laughing," Sirius beamed.

"Why would I?" Harry grinned, shaking his head. "This is great – you were a brilliant teacher last year; almost as good as Moony!"

Sirius pouted at being second best whilst Remus shot Sirius a smug look.

Harry's last day at Grimmauld Place seemed to pass amazingly fast. He spent half of it traipsing around the place, making sure he wasn't forgetting anything, and the rest of it messing about with Sirius and Remus – and Tonks, too, when she dropped in during her break. He went to bed that night with an odd feeling inside of him; he almost felt bad for leaving Grimmauld Place… he still wasn't used to having two places he could call 'home'. It had always been easy leaving the Dursleys, but leaving here?

"At least it isn't as bad as last year," Harry mumbled aloud, turning over in his bed and smiling when he saw Sally curled up beside him. And it _wasn't_ as bad as last year; last year he had been leaving behind not only Grimmauld Place, but his new-found guardians, too. At least this year, he knew both his guardians would be coming with him.

Everybody got up at nine thirty the next morning, giving themselves plenty of time to double-check their trunks before Apparating to platform nine and three-quarters at ten minutes to eleven.

"We'll be up front, in the teachers carriage," Sirius told him, ruffling his hair. "Aurors are going to be there too."

"Aurors? Is that why Tonks is here?"

"Yeah," Tonks chimed in. "Just in case, you know? Back in Voldemort's first rise of power, the train got attacked a couple of times… just to give everybody a scare. We're not taking any chances."

Harry nodded his agreement before hurrying off to join the Weasleys and Neville who were waiting for him. It didn't take them long to find an apartment, and they hung out the window to keep an eye out for Cho and Hermione.

When the train eventually set off, Harry found himself drifting off to sleep.

.

_He was flying along in the air, drifting lazily on his broom. Around him, the crowd was cheering. Oliver Wood – despite being out of school – was guarding the goals with the same confident air as the Keepers at the Quidditch World Cup had, and Fred and George were batting one of the Bludgers back and forth to each other, apparently bored. Malfoy shot past Harry in his fluffy pink Quidditch robes, but Harry ignored him, knowing he hadn't _really_ seen the Snitch. Then he did a double-take; Malfoy in pink fluffy robes? Apparently tossing Bludgers to each other wasn't quite enough to alleviate the twins' boredom. The match _had_ been going on for awhile now, he supposed. _

_ Harry nearly whipped out his wand as a figure suddenly appeared next to him, but he caught himself just in time. Sirius and Remus were on either side of him, sitting on school brooms. _

_"C'mon, Harry, we need to go," Sirius said in an urgent voice, pulling Harry along. Harry simply nodded and followed his godfather. They flew away from the Quidditch Pitch, over to the Forbidden Forest where Harry could see himself duelling with a Death Eater, watched as Crouch was killed. Remus hurried him on, past the scene, muttering frantically under his breath. They flew over the forest, over fields, a very great distance, though somehow they did not tire. Eventually they passed through some wards, and Harry was in a very familiar house. _

_"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off - " _

_The sounds of someone stumbling from a room – a door bursting open – a cackle of high pitched laughter… the scene changed, and Harry could see his mother standing in a small room. It was decorated in painted blue walls, a small cot sitting inconspicuously in the corner and numerous cuddly, stuffed-animal toys littered the floor. _

_"Not Harry! Not Harry! Please – I'll do anything –" _

_"Stand aside – stand aside, girl –" _

_"Not Harry…" _

_A flash of green light, a cruel laughter… someone was shaking him… _

Harry awoke to a tight grip on his arm, in an abnormally cold compartment. He blinked groggily, wondering why he was feeling so weak, when he noticed a cloaked figure at the door.

"Expecto Patronum!" he gasped, pulling out his wand and aiming it at the Dementor. A silver stag shot out of the end, pushing the Dementor away, but the carriage remained cold.

"There're more of them," Ron said glumly, noticing Harry's confused face.

"How many?" Harry demanded, pushing himself up so that he was sitting, rather than lying on the seat.

"We don't know," Ginny told him shakily. "They boarded about five minutes ago… that's the first one that came near us, though."

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked shrilly when Harry got to his feet, heading for the door.

"What do you think?" he half growled at her. "There are Dementors here, Hermione."

"You can't stop them on your own!"

"I can't let them attack helpless students, either."

"The seventh years - "

"Don't learn the charm 'til this year. You know that."

"The Aurors – "

"Obviously aren't doing a very good job," Harry snapped. "Do you want zombie students? _Do you_? No, well let me go."

Hermione seemed to struggle with herself until Neville placed a hand on her shoulder. "Be careful," she whispered, finally relenting.

Harry flashed her a smile. "I'm always careful."

Then he was out the door.

Harry kept his wand held tightly in his hand, his arm raised out carefully in front of him as he traipsed through the many different carriages in the train, occasionally sending Prongs – who was trotting along beside him, rather than disappearing after every attack – ahead to scare away a Dementor that was hovering outside a compartment. Obviously the students had enough sense to keep the doors locked… although he wasn't so sure a first or second year would know the spell to _magically_ look the doors. Thankfully, though, he hadn't found any Dementors _inside_ any carriages yet. He hadn't seen any Aurors yet either, though, which left him feeling oddly unsettled. Surely they ought to be helping get rid of the Dementors? For all they knew, not a single student knew the Patronus Charm! Then understanding dawned in him; he _knew_ the Aurors wouldn't leave the students to fend for themselves… and _that_ meant that something else was holding the Aurors back.

By the time he was just little over half-way through the train, Harry felt exhausted. He had never had to keep Prongs out for this long in one go; the last time he'd fought off any number of Dementors was at the end of his third year, and he had got them all at once. Here, though, the Dementors were spread out and it was quite a bit harder to attack them all at once – a fact that Harry was _very_ unhappy about. He'd stopped counting the Dementors once he reached ten, not really _wanting_ to know how many were on the train.

"Go," he urged Prongs as the already freezing air around them chilled a little. Prongs dashed ahead, using his antlers to push at another Dementor. It wasted no time in escaping.

It felt like hours later that Harry, shivering slightly from both the effects of the Dementors and exhaustion, finally reached the front of the train – and found himself in the middle of a huge fight between Death Eaters and Aurors. Looking around, he could see some seventh years had joined the fight, too. He had barely any time to reflect on this new-found fact when a curse flew at him, throwing him back against the wall. Spots erupted in front of his eyes for a moment, and Prongs disappeared silently, leaving Harry alone. Blinking furiously, Harry pulled his wand up, amazed that he hadn't dropped it, to throw a curse at the Death Eater approaching him. The spell hit it's surprised target squarely on the chest, and the Death Eater staggered back.

"Stupefy," Harry hissed before the Death Eater could regain his bearings, and he dropped to the floor.

"Nice one," Sirius complimented him, appearing out of nowhere and pushing Harry down to the floor when an orange curse flew towards them. "Now get out of here, Harry."

"Why haven't you called for help?"

"Anti-Apparition Wards," Sirius scowled. "There's some sort of charm preventing owls from getting out, too. Now _go_, before you get hurt."

Even as he said this, another spell flew towards Harry and a small cut appeared on his arm.

"Be careful," Harry said softly, before backing away. Now wasn't the time to play hero; he hadn't a chance against Death Eaters. He knew that, from his duel at the Quidditch World Cup. He'd gotten incredibly lucky that time.

"What's going on?" Ron demanded to know when Harry reached their compartment again.

"I got rid of the Dementors," Harry said wearily. "There's a big fight down at the front of the train – Death Eaters. We're really outnumbered… some of the seventh years are helping out."

"Why isn't anybody requesting backup?" Hermione frowned. "That doesn't make sense."

"Anti-Apparition wards," Harry told her sullenly. "And some sort of spell that prevents owls from leaving."

"Does it prevent _people_ leaving?" Cho asked. Harry blinked at her, then at the window.

"I have no idea," he admitted. He stepped over to the window and wrenched it open, gazing outside. Then, after gazing at his friends, he slowly climbed out of it – and landed outside the train.

"I'm going for help," he called to them.

"You can't be serious – you're going to walk to Hogwarts?" Fred asked, aghast.

"Of course not," Harry shot back, raising an eyebrow. Then he closed his eyes, trying desperately to concentrate, and he span on the spot and disappeared.

He reappeared a moment later in Hogsmeade, where he collapsed to the ground breathing heavily.

"Not to self," he gasped out between taking deep breaths. "_Never_ Apparate when you're exhausted."

He took a few moments to calm his heart and even out his breathing before struggling to his feet and walking towards the Three Broomsticks, one of the few places in Hogsmeade he knew to have a Floo connection to Hogwarts. People stared at him as he tumbled into the small pub, and he wondered how he must look; he knew he must be a little dirty from when he jumped out the window – he'd landed on a dry, dusty piece of land – and perhaps he'd caught a couple of scratches, too; he hadn't been paying as much attention as he should after he'd dealt with the Dementors. He groped around in his pockets, thanking the heavens or whoever was listening when he found a Knut in his pocket, and he slipped it into the little Floo dispenser. He caught the green powder in his hand and stepped tiredly into the empty fireplace, throwing the power to his feet and saying in as clear a voice as possible, "Hogwarts Great Hall."

Harry tumbled out of the fireplace that was usually hidden behind a curtain behind the staff table, landing – as usual – flat on his bum.

"Harry?" a voice asked, and he felt hands pulling him up; _Snape's_ hands.

"What's happened?" another voice – McGonagall, this time – asked.

"There's an attack on the train," Harry told them, looking up at them all; Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, Sprout, Hagrid and Sinistra were all there. "There were Dementors – they're gone, now – and Death Eaters… the Aurors are outnumbered."

"Severus, take Harry to the Hospital Wing and return as promptly as possible. It seems we have a slight situation on our hands."

Harry wanted to snort at the Headmasters understatement. 'Slight situation'?

"Of course," Snape inclined his head before ushering Harry out of the hall. "Are you all right, Harry?"

"M'fine," Harry assured him. "Jus'a little tired, s'all."

"Hmm," Snape pursed his lips as Harry's words started to slur together a little. Madam Pomfrey was bustling about the Hospital Wing when they entered, fixing the beds up.

"Mr Potter!" she scolded, bringing herself to his side in an instant. "Term hasn't even _started_ yet!"

"There was an attack on the train, Poppy," Snape intervened calmly. "I need to go now."

"Bye," Harry said glumly as he watched Snape stride out of the room. He turned back to Madam Pomfrey as soon as Snape had disappeared, accepting his fate of undoubtedly being forced to stay the night. "Guess I should pick a bed, then?"

"Best idea you've ever had, I think," Madam Pomfrey smiled brightly. Harry rolled his eyes and slid onto the bed nearest him, accepting the potion he was handed and drowning it without a fight. Really, he couldn't be bothered. He was vaguely aware of his shoes magically vanishing and a tingling along his skin as his clothes were transfigured into pyjamas as he slowly drifted into unconsciousness.

.

When Harry woke up to find bright, morning sunlight streaming into the room, he rolled his eyes. His guess had been right; he had known he would be given a Dreamless Sleep. He had clothes folded neatly on a chair beside the bed, along with a note from his guardians apologising for not being there when Harry woke up. Harry brushed it aside; Sirius would either be up at the staff table enjoying the attention, being the latest teacher, or he'd be planning his lessons. He could remember how stressed out Sirius had seemed last year, when he was filling in for Moody; he'd had no teaching experience whatsoever back then… well, aside from training Harry. After pulling on his clothes, Harry was pleased to see his wand sitting on the table beside the bed, which he placed back in his wand-holster before leaving the Hospital Wing – thankfully, no Madam Pomfrey in sight – to get some breakfast.

Harry was uncomfortably aware of the stares he received as he entered the Great Hall, but he did his best to ignore them and sidled over to where his friends sat, including Cho and Luna, at the Gryffindor table.

"Er – hello," Harry greeted Cho, surprised.

"Luna suggested I join you today," Cho explained, smiling slightly. "You're okay, then?"

"You were a mess yesterday," Ron added quietly, rolling his eyes when Hermione and Ginny glared at him.

"I'm fine – bit miffed that she put me to sleep like that, but fine. Was anyone hurt?"

"No, everyone was fine – and it's all thanks to you!" Ginny beamed.

"The Aurors were tired, and the Death Eaters probably would have won out if you hadn't Apparated for help," Fred explained at Harry's raised eyebrow.

"Plus, the Dementors… without you, I'm sure we'd have a few zombie students on our hands. It's not like anyone else helped," George added.

"And _then_ you went and duelled the Death Eaters," Hermione said in a somewhat reprimanding tone. "After you were exhausted from dealing with Dementors. What were you _thinking_?"

"I was trying to help," Harry responded, blinking at her cool voice. Then his face softened, and he smiled at her. "If you haven't figured out that I'm rash and have a 'saving-people-thing', you're obviously not as clever as I thought."

"Since when do you hide behind sarcasm?" Ginny asked, smirking.

"Since I spent a whole Summer with Padfoot, Moony and Tonks," Harry shrugged, smiling a little. "You start to pick up on it, after a while." Fred and George cheered at this, clapping Harry on the back and attracting the attention of a few amused Gryffindors – and the attention of Sirius and Remus, from the staff table – nearby.

"About time, mate," Fred grinned.

"You always were a bit too serious," George agreed.

"But we think you'll find-"

"-that joking is an _extremely_ good defence."

"You seriously remind me of Sirius sometimes, you know that?" Harry grinned.

"Oh, what a compliment he pays!" George cried dramatically.

"To compare us to such an outstanding figure in the history of pranksters!"

"Quieten down, you two," Ginny grumbled. "People are staring."

"They're just admiring our dashing good looks, dear little Ginnykins," George stage whispered, waving at the amused students around them.

"I'm beginning to think I should have stayed at the Hospital Wing. At least Madam Pomfrey isn't dangerous."

"Dangerous?" Cho questioned. Harry pointed at Ron, who was taking short, deep breaths, having choked on his breakfast. "Oh," she smirked.

"Here I am, choking to death, and all you can say is 'oh'?" Ron asked, feigning hurt.

"Your time-tables," a new voice cut in, and Harry smiled up at his Head of House.

"Miss me, Professor?" Harry asked with a grin. Last time he'd seen her, aside from yesterday, it had been an Order meeting and he'd run into her, knocking both of them to the floor.

"Quite," McGonagall said, the corner of her mouth twitching ever so slightly. "I do suggest you watch your step from now on, however." Harry cheerfully nodded before turning his attention back to his time-table… and instantly his smile turned upside down.

"Divination!" Harry and Ron groaned simultaneously.

.

"That's two years in a row," Ron grumbled as he, Harry and Neville made the all-too familiar trip up to the Divination classroom.

"Perhaps we're doomed to have bad luck on Mondays," Neville suggested half-heartedly; although he had grown to dislike Divination, he still did not detest it quite as passionately as Harry or Ron.

"Monday mornings," Harry corrected. "We have Transfiguration and Charms, after. They're okay subjects."

"Who does Sirius have first?" Ron asked suddenly, as if the idea had only just come to him.

"Er – first or second years, I think," Harry said uncertainly. He had glanced over Sirius' time table before, but hadn't really memorised anything aside from when _he_ had Sirius. "I know they're Ravenclaws, though." Yes; that much he could remember.

"I can't wait to get him," Ron said with a lopsided grin. "He was great last year."

"That's because it was Christmas, and he was filling in. He'll be more strict this year."

"Oh." Ron's face fell, and Harry and Neville smirked at each other.

"Good day," said Professor Trelawney in her usual misty, dreamy voice, "and welcome back to divination. I have, of course, been following your fortunes most carefully over the holidays, and am delighted to see that you have all returned to Hogwarts safely – as, of course, I knew you would. You will find on the tables before you copies of _The Dream Oracle_, by Inigo Imago. Dream interpretation is a most important means of diving the future and one that may very probably be tested in your OWL. Not, of course, that I believe examination passes or failures are of the remotest importance when it comes to the sacred art of divination. If you have the Seeing Eye, certificates and grades matter very little. However, the Headmaster likes you to sit the examination, so…"

Her voice trailed away delicately, leaving them all in no doubt that Professor Trelawney considered her subject above such sordid matters as exams.

"Turn, please, to the introduction and read what Imago has to say on the matter of dream interpretation. Then, divide into pairs and use _The Dream Oracle_ to interpret each other's most recent dreams. Carry on."

"Tell us a dream, Neville," Ron's voice broke the silence at the table the three boys had nabbed. Neville had decided to sit with Harry and Ron, rather than Seamus and Dean, this year.

"Er – I dreamed that my Mimbulus Mimbletonia grew pretty big and ate me," Neville offered with a weak, embarrassed smile.

"So… something's troubling you?" Harry said uncertainly, flicking through his book.

"Or something that seemed like a good idea at the time is something you'll grow to regret," Ron mused, looking at his book distastefully.

"What about you, Harry?"

"Er…" Truthfully, the last dream Harry could remember having was about Viktor. _Think, Harry_. "I dreamt that we won the first Quidditch match of the season," he offered eventually.

"Something good is going to happen," Neville smiled as he searched through his own book.

"Or you might rise to a challenge," Ron added.

"_Or_ it was just a dream, and all this interpretation stuff is a load of crap," Harry said dryly, shooting a look at Professor Trelawney. The Divination teacher was conversing with Parvati and Lavender, all three of them talking in high, girly voices.

"Wish we'd been smart like 'Mione," Ron said wistfully as he thought of the free period he could have right now.

After Divination they had Transfiguration, in which McGonagall took up half the class time with a lecture about how important the OWLs were, finishing her speech off with explaining that today they would be attempting to transfigure mice into rats. Lavender had been given the job of handing out the mice and was doing so with an extremely resentful look on her face.

"They're only mice," Harry said, amused, after Lavender had finished handing them out and had hurried to her seat, a look of disgust on her face.

"That's girls for you," Ron said in an undertone, not letting Hermione hear him. Harry grinned at him, knowing his friend was only joking.

"So how was Divination?" Hermione asked them, moving closer so they could talk. Harry, Neville and Ron glanced at each other, smirking.

"Same as usual," Harry offered eventually. "Wish I'd dropped out like you."

"You wouldn't have time to catch up with any other classes," Hermione told him logically, waving her wand over her mouse. "If you did move class, you wouldn't be able to pass the exams. And what good would that be?"

"Better than putting up with that old bat," Ron muttered, poking his mouse with his wand. There was a small _poof _of smoke, and it turned yellow.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow," Harry hummed under his breath. His three friends heard him; Hermione put her hand over her mouth to hide a smile, Neville blinked at him, confused, and Ron slapped him on the arm.

"What?"

"You don't remember?" Harry smirked, pulling his arm back as Ron tried to hit it again. "Back in first year, on the train? Ron was trying to turn Scab – his rat yellow… he really should've known better than to try a spell that _George_ gave him."

"I can't believe you remember the words," Ron grumbled, shaking his head.

"Course I do," Harry smiled, tapping his mouse. "I remember every possible thing I can for blackmail."

At the end of class, McGonagall told them to practice transfiguring mice into rats, and to try varying the sizes. Amazingly, all four of them had managed to transfigure their mice into rats by the end of the class. Ron and Neville were still in states of shock, having never managed anything in only one class since first year. Reaching the Great Hall, Harry grinned and waved over at Sirius and Remus, who were sitting up at the staff table. They waved back, both smiling, which Harry took to mean Sirius' classes were going fine so far.

"You'd think they'd be used to you by now," Ron said, motioning to all the students around them that were staring, as he dropped onto the seat opposite Harry. Harry shrugged, having been ignoring them; obviously, they hadn't seen enough of him at breakfast.

"Oi, Harry!"

"Yeah?" Harry turned round to find himself facing Angelina Johnson; a seventh year Gryffindor who was one of his fellow team mates on their House's Quidditch team.

"Keeper tryouts are on Friday, five o'clock. I want the whole team there so we can make sure the new one fits in with everyone."

"Tryouts – oh, you're captain? Congratulations, Angelina!" Harry smiled at her.

"Thanks," Angelina smiled back. "Now, make sure you're there – all right?"

"I will be," Harry promised. Angelina nodded her approval before heading back over to where she was sitting with Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell. "You still trying out?" Harry asked, glancing at Ron.

"Er… I don't know," Ron mumbled, not meeting Harry's eyes.

"C'mon, Ron. I've seen you play – you're _good_! You've got nothing to worry about."

"Will you help me, then?" Ron blurted. "Practice, I mean? Until Friday?"

"Sure," Harry agreed eagerly. If it would help Ron get on the team, he would do anything.

When they all settled into their seats in Charms, their books and wands lying on the tables in front of them, Harry and his classmates were treated to yet another lecture on the importance of the OWLs, and a brief explanation on what they could expect in their exams. The lecture took up just over half the period, and as half their usual amount of time was nowhere near enough time to learn a new spell, Professor Flitwick told them simply to revise spells from the years before.

"D'you reckon we'll get lectures from everyone?" Ron asked, using '_wingardium leviosa'_ to float his quill up in the air.

"You still don't do that quite right, you know," said Hermione, slightly amused. "You need to flick it more."

"It floats, doesn't it?" Ron shot back.

"Let's not fight, hmm?" Harry suggested, flicking his wand at Ron and turning his friend's hair blonde.

"That's worse than ginger," Ron said, scrunching up his nose when Hermione offered him a small mirror. "Hey – are you sure that's a charm? I don't remember learning it…"

"We'll learn it this here," Harry assured him. "Sirius taught me it this summer – says it can come in handy for pranks." He turned his gaze to Neville, who had copied Ron and was currently floating his quill. "Novus saeta," he said quietly, grinning when Neville's hair turned green like grass. He screwed his face up in concentration slightly, and managed to add some light brown, mud-coloured patches to his hair, too.

"It suits you," Ron grinned. Neville took the mirror Ron had used and checked his reflection, unable to hold in his laughter when he saw his hair.

"I once saw a picture of a Herbologist who had hair _just_ like this," he said, amused. "You'll need to teach me that charm, Harry."

"Sure thing," Harry grinned, waving his wand at his friends and changing their hair back to normal with a simple, "_finite_."

.

As soon as they finished dinner that night, Ron dragged everyone – Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, George, Neville, Luna and Cho – down to the Quidditch pitch. Well, he dragged _Harry_ down; Harry asked Hermione and the twins to come, and Hermione who asked Ginny, who asked Luna, who asked Cho. When Harry related all of this to a surprised Ron, the redhead simply blinked at him.

"Say that again, will you?"

"No," Harry mock-glared. "Let's just survive with 'everybody's here, and everybody – except Hermione and Luna – is going to help you train today."

"We could have our own Quidditch team," Ron grinned, leading Harry out of the changing rooms. "There are seven of us playing."

"Well, yeah – but two of us are seekers. We're a chaser short."

"You'd make a fairly decent chaser," Ron offered, swinging his leg over his broom and taking off into the air. Harry watched his friend heading over to the goals before he shook his head in amusement and shot off into the air himself. He did a quick warm-up lap around the pitch before he stopped by Ginny and Cho.

"Ready?" he grinned as Fred and George stepped onto the pitch with the Quaffle under their arms.

"You bet," Ginny said, smirking.

"Try not to kill him," Harry said, rolling his eyes as he flew away from her. Fred and George joined them in the air, then, and the training began.

Harry stayed, helping Ron, until seven; then he had to go for his own training with Sirius.

"You're doing great," Harry assured his friend, hovering beside the goals with Ron. "You don't even _need_ the practice – you're nearly as good as Oliver all ready!"

"Yeah, but so's McLaggen."

"Who's he?" Harry asked with a small frown; it wasn't like him not to recognise Gryffindor names.

"Seventh year," Ron shrugged. "He's a prat – I swear, he's got more pride than _Malfoy_. He hangs around with Ravenclaws, mostly; people tend to avoid him."

"Huh," Harry said, still surprised he hadn't recognised the name. "Well – keep practicing, then. I really don't think you have anything to worry about, though."

"Sure thing," Ron grinned before diving forward, catching the Quaffle that Ginny had just thrown at the left hoop. "See you later?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded. He turned his gaze to Hermione and Luna, sitting in the stands, and waved to them before heading to the changing rooms. He wasted no time in changing back into his normal clothes, knowing he was all ready late for his training. Sirius wouldn't mind too much – unlike Severus – but he'd rather not keep his godfather waiting; Sirius would probably be rather busy this year, what with being a _professor_… the thought still brought a grin to Harry's face. _Professor Padfoot_.

Harry had very nearly reached the front doors to the castle when three shadows slinked along the grass. Holding back a sigh, Harry pulled his wand out and shifted into a slightly defensive stance, ready to fight.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked, surprising even himself with the wariness in his voice. "Was having your father's friends attacking the train not enough?"

"Watch what you say, Potter," Malfoy hissed, drawing his own wand. "You're outnumbered – it really wouldn't be wise to mock us."

"I've taken you three on more times than I care to remember," Harry said back, in a much calmer voice.

"But not five of us," came a new voice, and Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini slinked into view.

"Shame on you, Malfoy," Harry said, amusement colouring his voice. He wasn't _really_ amused, but he was hardly going to let Malfoy know he was worried. "You'll make a rather bad Death Eater if you can't even fight your own fights. My, my; I wonder what your father would say."

"My father is twice the man you'll ever be, Potter!" Malfoy hissed in an even lower voice than before.

"Really?" Harry asked, faking surprise. "Then why is it that I do what I want, whilst he grovels at the feet of Voldemort?"

"Don't you dare speak his name!" shrieked Pansy, just as Malfoy shot a stinging hex at Harry. Harry dodged it with ease, rolling his eyes.

"You should know better than that, Malfoy. A hex like that won't beat me."

_Why do I always wind him up so much?_ Harry asked himself as he dodged three spells; one from each Malfoy, Zabini and Parkinson. _I should know better – especially when I'm outnumbered by three to one – Crabbe and Goyle don't count, of course. _

"I've met first years who can duel better than you," Harry yelled over to them, even as he dodged a spell that looked suspiciously like the Cruciatus Curse. His eyes widened at that; surely they weren't stupid enough to use Unforgivables at _Hogwarts_? Harry dodged another spell – this time from Crabbe – and dropped to one knee, firing off two stunners. They hit their targets, and Crabbe and Goyle fell to the ground with satisfyingly loud thumps. That done, he sent a body-locking curse at Pansy and, again, hit his target. She froze and fell over, lying on the ground, rigidly straight. He didn't get a chance to throw any more spells before he felt more spells flying towards him; unusually bright in colour. _Woops, I made them angry_. Harry easily dodged most of them, but felt one spell slice his shoulder. His still-recovering stomach was starting to hurt a little, too, and he was careful to favour it; he didn't want _that_ to get sliced open again.

"Coward!" Zabini yelled when Harry ducked behind a bush.

"I'm not the one ganging up on someone!" Harry yelled back furiously, touching his shoulder gingerly. His fingers came away red. _I should've known Malfoy would attack me. I should've been paying more attention to my surroundings… stupid, stupid!_ Harry jumped away, his mind forced off of his thoughts as the bush he had ducked behind was blown up. He quickly dowsed the small fire that had appeared before sending a cutting hex at Zabini, who ducked out of the way but didn't miss it completely; Harry managed to slice his arm a little.

As the duel lasted longer and longer, Harry felt his irritation start to grow. He was supposed to meet Sirius half an hour ago! Hadn't anybody noticed their fight? A teacher? And why was he finding it so hard to beat the two fifth year Slytherins? He'd fought fully-grown _Death Eaters_ before! Deciding he needed something to lighten his mood, Harry threw a couple of 'prank spells' at the two boys, and Malfoy soon had pink robes whilst little ribbons appeared in Zabini's hair. This angered the two even more, but just as Harry was hit with a second cutting hex – _what is it with me and getting cut?_ – seven beams of red light flew past him. Malfoy and Zabini dropped to the ground, unconscious, and Harry turned around to see Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, Fred, George and Cho standing with their wands drawn, fury covering their faces as they glared at the fallen bodies of the Slytherins. Luna was the only who didn't have her wand out, and was seemingly oblivious to the fight Harry had just been in.

"Thanks," Harry said meekly, giving his friends a lopsided grin. "That was starting to get annoying."

"Did they gang up on you?" Ginny asked, eyeing the five Slytherins with wide eyes.

"Yeah," Harry said slowly. "I guess they saw us head out, and waited for me to come back."

"You're hurt," Fred said, eyeing the cuts on Harry's shoulder and arm.

"I've been worse," Harry shrugged, though he winced as it irritated his shoulder.

"I'll get McGonagall," Neville offered, hurrying into the castle. Ginny followed him after a moment.

"Let's go," Fred said cheerfully, taking a hold of Harry's arm.

"What?" Harry asked, blinking as George copied his brother and grabbed Harry's other arm. The two pulled him off, leaving the rest of his friends to watch over the Slytherins.

"To see Madam Pomfrey!" George exclaimed, just as cheerfully.

"She'll be missing you," Fred said, not losing his cheerful voice.

"After not seeing you for a whole day," George continued grinning. Harry sighed "Good job on the robes and hair, by the way," George complimented him.

"Like I said, it was getting annoying," Harry brushed them off. "You know, I can walk on my own – I'm a big boy now."

"Of course you can," Fred agreed in the voice you would typically use with a sulking two year old. They didn't let go of his arms.

Someone had obviously told Sirius and Remus about the fight, as they appeared in the Hospital Wing just as Madam Pomfrey was healing the cut on his shoulder.

"Are you all right?" Sirius asked, his eyes locked on the now-shrinking cut on Harry's arm.

"Hunky dory," Harry replied with a voice full of false brightness. Sirius rolled his eyes and Remus stepped over to sit on the bed beside Harry.

"I did start to wonder where you were… I thought you had just lost track of the time, with Quidditch," Sirius said in an almost-guilty voice.

"I _did_ lose track of the time," Harry told him with a small grin. "Only by a few minutes though." He sighed. "What is it with me? Can't they go bother someone else for a change?"

"You're free to go," Madam Pomfrey said, cutting into their conversation. Her pursed lips and narrowed eyes plainly said that she didn't want to let him go at all.

"You'll see me again soon enough, I bet," Harry assured her with a grin, hopping off the bed.

"I don't doubt it," he heard the matron mutter as she headed into her office.

.

They didn't spend too long training that night, as his duel with the Slytherins had managed to tire Harry out a little. It didn't help that Harry was annoyed at the way Sirius was holding back, either; obviously he was afraid to hurt Harry after he'd already been injured that night.

"I'll see you in class tomorrow then, Professor Padfoot," Harry grinned as he exited the room.

"Of course. And I'll be waiting with detentions in hand."

"You wouldn't give your own godson detention!" Harry said, his eyes widening in horror.

"Hmm… we'll see," Sirius hedged, ruffling Harry's hair with a grin.

"Sirius!" Harry groaned, slipping away from his godfather and hurrying away from him. He could hear his godfather laughing behind him as he escaped. He found Hermione, Ron and Ginny waiting for him in the Common room, sitting in front of the fire and talking in low voices.

Ron was the first to notice him. "Harry!" he exclaimed, grinning.

"Hey," Harry greeted, dropping into one of the seats beside them. "Did I miss anything?"

"We just helped Ginny with her homework," Ron shook his head. "'Mione's been reading."

"_Don't_ call me ''Mione'," Hermione hissed, using her book to whack Ron on the head.

"Ouch – okay, sorry," Ron grumbled. "You didn't need to hit so hard," he added under his breath. Hermione pretended not to hear him as she went back to reading her book.

"What happened to Malfoy and his snakes, then?" Harry asked.

"Detention," Ginny sighed, disappointed. "If it wasn't for their fathers being Death Eaters, I swear they would have been expelled years ago."

"That's life for you," Harry shrugged, then covering his mouth with his hand to hide a yawn. "Ugh. I think I'll have an early night tonight. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Night, Harry."

Harry quickly undressed and changed into his pyjamas – he'd gotten into the habit of sometimes just sleeping in his boxers at Grimmauld Place, but he didn't feel quite ready to do that here in Hogwarts just yet – and slipped into his bed, lying his head gratefully onto his pillow. It took him longer than usual to fall asleep, but not too long, and he was drowsy enough that he didn't notice his scar prickling as he _did_ finally drift off. The next time he opened his eyes, he found himself surrounded by cloaked figures and talking in an uncomfortable familiar high, cold voice. He was having another vision.

* * *

Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter; I finally decided I ought to give the Twilight series by Stephanie Meyer a try, and that greatly slowed down my progress. I must say, though, it was worth it - Bella and Edward are _so_ sweet!

Uhmm... as for this chapter, I know that technically the first of September 1995 is a Friday and not a Sunday, but let's pretend it _is_ a Sunday, okay? I didn't realise until I'd finished the chapter, and having re-written the train scene four times I really can't be bothered to fix that little part. I have to say, I'm not happy witht he train scene as it is; I much prefered my third attempt aside for the fact that I made Harry out to be super-powered... ugh.

Hopefully, chapter six should be up a little quicker, as I already have a third of it written. Wish me luck, yeah? I cried writing the start of it... it's kind of depressing, the vision he has... but that's all I'm telling you! =P


	6. The Vision

**HP Year 5: Let the War Begin  
**_Chapter 6_

**_Beta Note: Hello all of Shannon's lovely readers!!!!! I just thought I would warn you that this chapter does contain some heavy violence. If you're at all freaked out by violence, I would skip until you see the sign so you don't get freaked out. Anyway, enjoy our lovely Shannon's wonderful chapter!!!! Hugs to Shannon- Britt _**

* * *

"Come, now, _Isabella_" Harry said coldly. "Surely you don't believe that such a mere _Muggle_ device shall be enough to thwart Lord Voldemort?"

The shaking women in front of him said not a word, but she tightened her grip on the shiny knife that she held in her hand. A loud crash came from another room, and two Death Eaters appeared; one holding a tall, athletic man with slightly-greying, mousy brown hair who looked to be in his mid-thirties, and a young toddler; a boy with the same mousy-brown hair as his father and who couldn't be more than three years old. The boy had his mouth open and his eyes scrunched up, leading Harry to the conclusion that the boy was crying with a silencing charm on him.

"Ah, good. Very good," Harry said in a soft, satisfied tone. "I think… the child first, yes. Bring him here." The masked Death Eater holding the toddler stepped forward and placed him on the ground in front of Voldemort, placing a barrier charm around the little boy so he couldn't escape. "Crucio," Voldemort hissed, and instantly the little boy started rolling around; no sound escaped his lips, though it was painfully obvious that he was positively screaming in agony. Voldemort proceeded to cast numerous spells on the little boy; bruises appeared out of nowhere on his body, cracking sounds filled the air as his bones broke, and blood started to slowly dribble out of his eyes and ears. Voldemort remained perfectly oblivious to the screaming parents standing to his side, but Harry was painfully aware of them. _Just kill him!_ Harry wanted so desperately to yell. _Put him out of his pain, you psychotic, sadistic bastard!_

And, eventually, Voldemort did. He cast a final Crucio on the boy – which Harry could somehow feel – and slit the little toddler's throat; the boy gurgled, his blood-stained eyes turning huge and, if possible, even _more_ panicked as he chocked on his own blood, unable to suck in the slightest breath through his now useless throat. Eventually he fell forward, twitching ever so slightly, and Harry knew he was dead.

* * *

** It's safe to read now :)**

**

* * *

**

"It hurts, doesn't it?" Voldemort asked softly, the hint of a cruel smile causing his lips to curl back ever so slightly over his teeth. "How does it feel to know it's _your_ fault? Stupid little muggles, spawning worthless little Mudbloods. Your daughter – Cathy Hapkins, I believe? - will be fast asleep at Hogwarts right now, oblivious… yet when she wakes up, she will find a teacher explaining to her that you have deserted her… how does that feel, I wonder?" Voldemort seemed honestly curious before he shook himself out of it. "I let myself get carried away, sometimes. Aha. Bring me the father next."

The father with the mousy-brown hair was dropped roughly at Voldemort's feet – Harry refused to think of the bare, red feet as his own, no matter how much it felt they were – and despite the man shaking from emotional agony, he was quite able to tilt his head up and send Voldemort a scathing glare. Voldemort merely smiled at this, twirling his wand thoughtfully before sending a small '_Crucio_'. The man trembled on the floor, but he either had a silencing charm on him or he was refusing to give Voldemort the satisfaction of hearing him scream. Which option, Harry couldn't decide; he knew Voldemort liked to hear his victims scream in pain, but he also knew most Muggles hadn't a chance of staying silent through a Cruciatus Curse. Voldemort proceeded to torture the father in similar ways to the boy, but before he could kill him Harry felt himself being pulled away from Voldemort's mind.

.

Harry awoke with a cry of agony before he hurriedly pushed his head over the side of his bed, bringing up everything he'd had to eat that day. Every time he thought he had finished emptying his stomach, another image of the tortured little boy, or his father, would appear in his mind and cause him to start retching all over again. Eventually he was left dry heaving, and he felt it was safe enough to lay his burning head back onto his comfy pillow. He slowly lifted a trembling hand to rub at his scar, and winced at the pain. When he pulled his fingers back, he could see blood on them. Worry instantly flooded him; had his scar burst open? What did that mean? When he felt his head again, though, he decided it wasn't his scar that was bleeding; it was the skin around it: he must have been scratching at it during the vision.

Harry stayed on his bed for close to ten minutes, fighting exhaustion and the need to… _cut himself_, trying to get the traumatising images out of his head, before he finally pushed himself up into a sitting position, gazing blearily at the small clock that sat on his bedside table. It was only ten-thirty. No wonder nobody else was in the dorm. He was half-surprised that nobody had heard him scream, but then again, he knew the dormitories had silencing charms placed on the walls. Knowing he had to tell someone – _anyone_ – about his vision, Harry slowly pushed himself up off the bed, swaying as he stood. He managed to stumble out of the room and down the stairs – though he fell on the last few, landing on his bum at the bottom of them – and stagger over to his friends.

"Harry?" Hermione was instantly concerned.

"What - ?" Ron started.

"Your head!" Ginny and Neville exclaimed together. The whole room was silent now, watching Harry like hawks. Fred and George ambled over, gazing at Harry with identical looks of concern on their faces.

"Sirius and Remus – _now_," Harry breathed, reaching out to grab George's arm when he swayed again. Ron and Hermione jumped up instantly, closely followed by Neville and Ginny.

Ron took hold of his other arm, while George gripped the one that Harry had used to grab George in his attempt to not fall over, and the two led him out of the common room with Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Fred following them.

By the time they reached the Marauders Quarters, George was carrying Harry, who felt dead on his feet.

"What's wrong?" Sirius asked, rushing over to them. "Moony! Get out here!" he shouted into one of the rooms as he took Harry out of George's arms.

"I had another v-vision," Harry said softly, turning his head away from Sirius as another wave of nausea passed over him. His face must have gained a green tinge, for Sirius quickly sat him down on one of the sofas and offered him a small bucket.

"I've got nothing left in me," Harry protested half-heartedly before accepting the bucket anyway.

"I thought you were vomiting less after visions now," Remus frowned, sitting down beside Harry and running his hand soothingly through Harry's hair, which was dark and soaked in sweat.

Harry shrugged slightly, gazing into the little bucket Sirius had given him. It was a plain grey colour – much like the colour of Mr Hapkin's eyes - and it felt like plastic.

"Should we – should we go?" Ginny asked uncertainly. One of Harry's guardians must have nodded, for he soon heard footsteps leaving the room and the door swinging shut.

"Are you ready to talk about it?" Sirius asked gently, kneeling down in front of Harry so as to see his face. Harry felt himself pale at the thought of talking about it, but he knew he had to; there was a _chance_ that the mother was still alive. If Voldemort took his time in torturing the father…

"No," Harry shook his head. "But I need to… we might be able to save her! Isabella Hapkins – you have to tell Dumbledore!"

"Hapkins... her daughter's Cathy, right?" Sirius asked, and Harry nodded.

"Her parents are Muggles… her little b-brother and her d-dad are already…" he trailed off, unable to say the word. "Her mum might still be alive, though – please, Sirius, tell Dumbledore!"

"Right," Sirius nodded, traded a significant look with Remus, then quickly left via floo.

"Did you watch them die?" Remus asked softly after Sirius had left. Harry's gaze jolted up to meet Remus', and he nodded, feeling his eyes brighten with moisture.

"He tortured them," Harry whispered brokenly. "He started with the little toddler, made the parents watch…" his voice caught in his throat, and Remus pulled him into a tight embrace. Somehow, though, Harry felt the insane urge to continue, and he did so, his voice muffled by Remus' chest. "He – Moony, he was so cruel… he broke his bones… he used the Cruciatus… I think the Cruciatus did something to his brain; _blood_ started…" but Harry stopped, feeling himself struggling to breathe now. He clutched tightly at Remus' robes – when had he grabbed them to begin with? – and struggled to even out his breathing as fat tears slid down his cheeks.

"Let it all out," Remus whispered soothingly as he rubbed his hand in small circles around Harry's back. Behind them, Harry heard the fire flame up, and knew Sirius was back. He felt a weight settle beside himself and Remus on the sofa, and then a second arm was around him.

"We should put him to bed," he heard Remus whisper to Sirius. He couldn't find it in himself to be annoyed that they were, again, talking about him as though he wasn't there; he felt oddly tired despite his fear of sleeping now. "He had to watch that bastard _torture_ them, Sirius."

"We need to find a way to stop this," Sirius growled softly, his arm tightening ever so slightly around Harry.

"I agree – but we need to put Harry to bed. We'll give him his potions, and some dreamless sleep – somehow, I doubt that he'll be lucky enough to escape nightmares."

"I'll go get them," Sirius said quietly, taking his arm back and standing up. A moment later, Harry felt himself being lifted by Remus and carried through to the bedroom he had in these quarters. Remus tucked him in tightly and sat on the edge of the bed, and then Harry heard Sirius entering and felt cool liquids sliding down his throat. He could hear the low buzzing of his guardians talking to each other, but his find was far too groggy to make out any specific words and soon his world turned black.

.

When Harry awoke and found his room filled with bright sunlight, he knew it had to be around noon and that Sirius and Remus had, apparently, decided to keep him out of classes for the day. In a way, he was grateful; it gave him some more time to himself before he had to talk to his friends and answer their questions – but, in a way, he was also slightly unhappy; classes, he had learned over the years, were a great way to distract a person from their thoughts… and distractions definitely sounded like a good idea right now; as it was, he was feeling his breath catch in his throat again as images of his vision flashed across his mind – and then, as an image of Isabella Hapkins appeared in his mind, he shot up in bed. Ignoring the fact that he was still in pyjamas and was sure to have slightly red and puffy eyes, Harry stumbled into the common room, still half-asleep. Sirius and Remus were there, both of them with their heads buried in books. Normally, the sight of Sirius reading a book would be enough to set Harry off with some lame joke or another, but today – for obvious reasons – he wasn't in a laughing mood.

"Did you get her?" Harry blurted out as his two guardians heard him enter and looked up at him with gentler than usual eyes. They glanced at each other, and Harry felt his stomach sink. _They were too late; I should have got help straight away – who cares if I was sick? A life is so much more important – _

"Don't you dare start beating yourself up," Sirius said, his voice almost harsh as he caught sight of Harry's face. "Yes, we got her. She was… a bit roughed up, but we got her."

"You got her," Harry repeated, the simple, three-word phrase echoing around his mind. _We got her… we got her… she was going to be okay!_

"Voldemort was gone by then," Remus nodded. "He just left his… Death Eaters with her."

"Were – were the bodies - ?"

"Madam Pomfrey's cleaning them up a bit, so they can get buried when Isabella awakes."

"What are you reading?" Harry asked, and his guardians looked startled at the sudden change of topic. Harry ignored this, knowing they would catch on soon enough, and knowing that they probably wouldn't let him avoid talking about his vision for long. Indeed, it only took a few moments for understanding to dawn in Remus' eyes, and in Sirius' too after Remus sent him an odd look.

"We're actually researching a way to stop these visions," Remus said eventually, sparing the smallest of glances back at the book. "It doesn't help that we don't know how exactly you're receiving them."

Harry nodded; that made sense. He could look, too, and he'd bet Hermione would be willing to help.

"Harry…" Sirius sighed. "You know you need to talk about it, right? I know it's going to be unpleasant – I saw their bodies… but it'll just eat up at you if you don't talk about it."

"I know," Harry whispered, and he suddenly sounded much younger than his fifteen years. Sirius and Remus shifted over a little on the sofa, so that there was space between them for Harry to sit. Resigned to his fate, Harry slowly approached the seat and dropped lightly onto it.

"Take your time," Remus told him softly, resting his hand on Harry's shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. Harry nodded, squeezing his eyes shut as though it would help block out the images, before taking a deep breath and starting.

"I went to bed… and then, next thing I knew, I was in a kitchen. There was a woman – Isabella – standing in front of me… she looked so scared, and she had a knife. Voldemort didn't seem worried… he taunted her… it didn't take long for the Death Eaters to come with Mr Hapkins, and the little boy… he wanted to – to torture the parents, by making them watch while he t-tortured the little boy…" Harry trailed off, and he felt all sorts of emotions swelling up inside of him. Pain, from having watched it; anger, for how easily Voldemort could do that, for how much suffering he caused; confusion, for why Voldemort had even done anything in the first place.

"Can I go for a walk?" Harry asked quietly.

"Harry - "

"No. I don't care if talking helps, Moony. I can't sit and _talk_ about how he tortured that little boy! I _can't_!"

"On you go, Harry," Sirius told him softly, glancing sideways at Remus. Harry pulled away from them and quietly exited the room, not even bothering to grab his cloak. If he got _really_ cold – which, seeing as it was still summer, he doubted would happen – he could use a heating charm.

The grounds were empty of students bar for the small class that was standing down at Hagrids hut. Judging by their size, Harry guessed them to be third-years. Hagrid happened to glance over at that moment and notice him, and he gave Harry a cheery wave. Harry waved back half-heartedly before turning away and walking numbly towards the lake; he had learned over the course of the past year that the lake was one of the most relaxing places there was at Hogwarts. When he reached it, he gathered a few rocks and knelt down on one knee and skimming his rocks over the water. Randomly, Harry wondered why Sirius had been with Remus; surely he had a class to teach? Then again, he reasoned, fifth to seventh year students weren't the only people to get free periods. Or… Sirius was rather overprotective sometimes; perhaps he asked somebody to cover his classes for the day…?

Harry let out a long low sigh as he threw his last rock into the water, watching as large droplets of the clear liquid splashed up high before dropping back down, creating ripples all around them. Unbidden, the very thoughts that he was trying to avoid appeared in his mind; the little toddler, his eyes scrunched up in agony; the husband, his eyes wide in anguish as he watched his son be murdered, then fill with pain as he himself began to get tortured; the mother and wife, Mrs Hapkins, fear and anguish radiating off of her body as she watched Voldemort torture the ones she loved…

"Ouch," Harry grumbled, having punched the ground. His knuckles were red now, but they weren't bleeding. That was probably a good thing; if he gave himself the tiniest cut now he wasn't sure he would be able to resist the lure of his therapeutic self-harm.

"Watch out!" a voice suddenly called. Too late; something large and furry bounded into Harry, knocking him forward and into the lake.

"Fang, yeh great mutt!" the furry thing was pulled off him. "Yeh okay, Harry?"

"I'm fine, Hagrid," Harry gasped out, spitting water out of his mouth and rubbing it out of his eyes. "He got away, then?" he asked, trying to sound normal.

"Yeah," Hagrid scowled, clapping Fang – though not hard – on the back. "Yeh sure yeh're alrigh'?"

"Yeah," Harry said, giving Hagrid a weak smile. "A little wet, but nothing a drying charm won't fix. Shouldn't you get back to your class?"

"Yeah… s'pose so."

"Let me guess. You've got Slytherins?"

"Yeh're a better Seer than Trelawney, I'll give yeh that."

"I'll see you later, Hagrid."

"Look after yerself, Harry," Hagrid clapped him on the back, giving him one worried glance before heading back to his class.

Harry stayed away from the waters' edge after that, choosing instead to lean against one of the old, gnarled trees. His goal of forgetting about his vision was failing; his vision seemed to be the _only_ thing that he _could_ think of. His skin was itching terribly, and his eyes were stinging, but he ignored both. He longed for a distraction, but he had no idea what to do; he didn't want to go back to Marauder Quarters, and his friends would be in class…

The bell rang out across the grounds, signifying the end of period two and the start of three. Abruptly, Harry stood up and marched to the castle, reaching it around a minute before Hagrid's third years. He wanted a distraction, and what better distraction was there than classes?

"Harry!" Ron said, surprised, when Harry caught up with him, Hermione and Neville just outside the Defence classroom.

"We thought you were skipping class today," Neville said slowly, uncertain.

"I was," Harry gave them a half-shrug. "I decided I needed a distraction – hey, Sirius," he added, for his godfather had just appeared.

"Harry," Sirius greeted, his gaze locking on Harry's. Harry couldn't hold it for more than a moment, and he dropped his own to the ground. He heard Sirius exhale slowly before opening the door and ushering the class inside.

"Why're you wet?" Ron asked suddenly, and Harry realized he never had gotten around to drying himself properly.

"Fang pushed me into the lake."

"_Fang_?"

"He escaped while Hagrid was teaching," Harry shrugged, sitting his book on the desk.

"You could get ill," Hermione remarked as she sat down on Harry's left.

"In the middle of summer? I don't think so."

"It's not the middle of summer."

"It's still summer."

"Okay – attention, please!" Sirius called out, and Hermione fell silent. Harry gazed at her for a moment before turning to watch Sirius.

"Well, you had me for a while last year, so I don't think I need to introduce myself. I thought for today we could have a few mock duels, that way I can see where everybody is skill-wise. There's no point in me teaching you things that are too easy, or too hard."

A murmur of excited agreement went around the class, and a few people slipped their books back into their bags.

"Yes," Sirius grinned, noticing this. "Books away, then stand back from your desks." He waited for them to comply before swishing his wand, temporarily banishing the desks so they had the whole room to work in. "Pair up, and I'll watch you duel. Anything is allowed, bar Dark Magic – yes, Ron?"

"Does that mean we can hit them?"

"You can use physical attacks, yes," Sirius quickly concealed a snort at Ron's eagerness. "I'll watch you while you duel, and then I'll give you advice afterwards, all right?"

Harry ended up paired with Hermione first; she completely ignored Ron and stepped right in front of him.

"I'm not going to talk," he told her bluntly as he pulled out his wand.

"It was worth a try," she sighed. "Are you all right?" He didn't answer. "I'll take that as a no, then," she decided, concern dancing in her eyes.

"I'm not going to talk," he repeated, tightening his hand ever so slightly on his wand. "Now, are we going to duel or not?"

"All right – bow first?" Harry nodded slightly, and they bowed before Hermione shot off a jinx.

Despite being a lot better at duelling than any of his fellow fifth-year Gryffindors, Hermione won their duel, then so did Ron when they switched, and Seamus after that. Neville very nearly won, except that he stumbled a little and gave Harry the chance to disarm him.

"You did good," Harry told Neville, trying to smile at his friend.

"Thanks, Harry," Neville smiled back, but there was another emotion in his eyes that Harry didn't understand.

Harry, for the most part, zoned out whilst Sirius talked to everyone about how they'd duelled; what they had done good, and what they had to improve on, and he asked if anyone could point out any weaknesses of those they'd fought. It wasn't just the nameless little toddler, or Mr and Mrs Hapkins he was thinking about this time; Viktor floated to his mind, and that old muggle man from the year before, and his parents; everyone he knew to have been personally killed by Voldemort. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice the bell ring, or his friends leave the room at Sirius' urging, or Sirius coming to stand in front of him and watch him quietly. He didn't notice Sirius saying his name, trying to catch his attention; he didn't notice anything at all until Sirius laid his hand on his shoulder. Harry's head whipped up, and he flicked his wand out instinctively, aiming it just slightly to the right of where Sirius' heart would be. He hadn't _quite_ perfected his 'aim-for-the-heart' technique yet.

"Just me, kiddo," Sirius said with false brightness, holding his hands in the hair in mock-surrender.

"You surprised me," Harry muttered, tucking his wand back into his holster.

"You were dead to the world," Sirius replied, and Harry flinched. "Sorry – bad choice of words. Did you… have a good walk?"

"Sure, if getting pushed into a lake is good."

"You were pushed into a lake?" Sirius' eyes narrowed. "Well, I did wonder why you were wet - who pushed you?"

"Fang," Harry said wearily; he suddenly felt much more tired than before.

"Oh." Now Sirius looked uncomfortable.

"Did you want something?"

"Well… Tonks is visiting tomorrow."

"Okay."

"And… Moony wants to talk to you tonight."

"Really?"

"Yeah. About your vision… it's not something you can just ignore, Harry. You need to talk to someone about it."

"And you're not that someone, then?"

"Well – you know I want to help, don't you? I really do… but I'm no good at this sort of thing. With James and I, if something was wrong we would make a few jokes and get past it… but you're not like that; you need a serious Marauder and, despite what my name says, I'm not that Marauder."

Sirius looked so annoyed at himself for being unable to help that Harry felt himself feeling a little sorry for his godfather.

"Fine," Harry finally said, letting out a tired sigh. "What time does he want me at?"

"Seven-thirty. That way you'll have plenty of time to talk, and then I'll have time to mark the first years' homework."

"Fine."

"It _will_ help you, you know," Sirius said softly, squeezing Harry's shoulder gently.

"Yeah, sure," Harry muttered quietly before backing out of the room.

.

When he arrived at the Marauder's Quarters that night, he found Remus sitting on his own in front of the fire with a half-read book lying open on his lap.

"Hello, Harry," Remus gave him his trademark gentle smile as he closed his book and shifted over on the sofa to make space for Harry. After a small moment of hesitation, Harry joined him.

"I wasn't sure you would come," Remus admitted, tapping his book with his wand and banishing it to the bedroom.

"Neither was I," Harry told hi softly. "But I thought – I felt – I mean - "

"Relax," Remus soothed.

"He was right," Harry finally settled on that. "Talking helps… and… well, I need help, don't I? If I don't… if I don't…"

"I know," Remus squeezed his shoulder. "I know, cub."

"Is he always like that?" Harry asked after a moment of silence. "Voldemort, I mean. Is he always so… sick?"

"Sadly, Harry, yes. The torture of others is all one big game to the likes of Voldemort. What you saw, I regret to say, probably wasn't even the worst that could have happened."

"Even to kids? He was only a toddler!"

"The younger, the better, according to Voldemort. I believe he once said that children 'scream far quicker than the mature adult'."

"Oh."

Remus sighed. "Tell me about your vision, Harry."

"But – but – you don't want to hear it."

"For once in your life, try to be selfish. I understand that what you saw was horrific, Harry, but believe me when I say I am able to cope with hearing horrible things."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"I just want to help you, Harry," Remus said, squeezing his shoulder again. "If you can't talk to me, who _can_ you talk to? Sirius wants to help, too, but he's hopeless at these kind of talks. Your father was, too, as a matter of fact, but that's a story for a different time." Here, Remus stopped and shifted in his seat so he was facing Harry head-on. "Tell me about your vision, Harry."

* * *

Here's chapter six, finally! I'm sorry it took so long... I had _really_ bad writers block and couldn't write anything for just over two weeks!! Hopefully I'll make up with it in the next chapter, though: I have a couple of ideas for it. It'll be humurous, too, to make up for the negative feel of this one. : )

Quick question: how do you feel about a change of title? 'Let the war begin' sounds pretty lame, and I've finally come up with an adequate substitute: When Worlds Collide. It sounds so much better, and fits the storyline better too, in a way.

Hope you enjoyed it anyway: )


	7. Occlumency

**HP Year 5: Let the War Begin  
**_Chapter 7_

* * *

The morning dawned bright, and Harry was momentarily blinded as he woke to find the dazzling sun shining directly onto his face. He had stayed the night in his own room within the Marauders quarters, and having talked to Remus about his vision he felt a little better. He didn't think he would ever understand why talking helped, but it most certainly did. Not as much as a certain other coping method he had used over the years, but he was trying not to think about it. He knew if he so much as thought of the word, he would succumb to the temptation and ruin what little progress he seemed to be making towards recovering.

After moving his head out of the suns direct beam, Harry blinked the sleep out of his eyes and slipped off his bed. He could hear animated chatter from the next room, but didn't bother straining his ears to make out the words. Instead, he quickly pulled on fresh clothes that had been lain out for him and left his bedroom. Company was always good when he felt like this; it distracted him from his darker thoughts.

What he hadn't expected to find, as he entered the room, was a near-hysterical Sirius ducking behind a couxh, and a bubblegum-pink haired Tonks pointing her wand at what looked to be a cross between a small dog and a large mouse. Coloured purple.

It didn't take long for everything to click in Harry's head. Sirius, or Remus, had told Tonks about his vision. Tonks knew how it would affect him, and so had come to try and prank him into being happy… and the odd purple, furry creature in front of him was Remus.

"Hiya, Harry," Tonks greeted him brightly. Despite her apparent cheerfulness and the grin painted upon her face though, Harry could sense her concern for him, and he was determined not to have her worry about him. He did feel better, now – as long as he didn't think about what he had seen, anyway. He knew Mrs Hapkins had been rescued, because he had still been awake when Snape flooed in to let Sirius and Remus know, so he had no reason to bring the subject up again – although, he knew without a doubt that one of his guardians (or Snape) would bring it up at some point to make sure it wasn't troubling him too much.

"You need to teach me that," Harry told her, looking appreciatively at the creature at her feet. That would be an amazing prank to pull on Malfoy, or one of his Slytherin goons.

"Sure," Tonks agreed readily, obviously happy that her attempt to keep Harry happy and distracted appeared to be working. From the floor, Moony made a funny squawking noise that reminded Harry of how Hedwig sounded when she was angry at something, and his lips twitched upwards ever so slightly.

A loud 'pop!' echoed around the room as Remus reappeared, kneeling on the floor and mock-glaring at Tonks.

"You're going to regret that," Remus assured her. He was attempting to keep his face straight, although the slight wrinkles around his eyes belied his amusement at the situation, and his wand was pointed steadily at Tonks' face.

"I think," Harry said slowly, keeping his eyes on all three wands (Sirius was now standing, his wand pointed at Remus), "I'll just head down to breakfast now."

"I'll walk you, Harry," Tonks offered hastily, bouncing over to him – only to be stopped halfway towards him, frozen like a statue.

"No, you won't," Remus smiled smugly. "Sirius can walk Harry. I told you, you're going to regret pranking me."

Tonks couldn't move her lips to answer back, but Harry was sure that if she could have, she would be arguing fiercely – and, indeed, would probably have hexed Remus already.

"Come on, Harry," Sirius said brightly as he stuffed his wand into his back pocket. "Let's leave these two to it."

.

"Any interesting classes today?" Sirius asked, trying to start up a conversation that had nothing to do with Harry's vision, as they made their way towards the Great Hall.

"Herbology, Transfiguration and Potions," Harry told him with an almost imperceptible shrug. He was surprised he was able to recite them off the top of his head; he usually struggled a lot more to memorise his class schedules. "Nothing special. I'd rather have defence."

"Because of the class, or because of the teacher?" Sirius asked, and Harry wasn't sure if he was truly curious or hoping Harry would say 'teacher' to help feed his already inflated ego.

"Both," Harry said after a moment. "It's always been my best class. I guess you teaching is a bonus, though, since I know you're a competent teacher who won't try to kill me halfway through the year."

"That's all? What about my dashing good looks, and the fact I won't give you detention?" Sirius asked, acting wounded. "I work hard to make my class fun for you!"

"Really?" Harry asked lightly. "I hadn't noticed." He felt himself smiling slightly now, and Sirius looked pleased – but only for a moment, before he went back to trying to look hurt.

"Harry, you wound me."

Harry felt his jaw tighten a little at the word 'wound', so close to bringing forth the thoughts he had been ignoring all morning, but he tried to brush it off. He didn't want to worry Sirius.

Sirius continued to bring up small subjects all the way to the Great Hall, where Harry bid him goodbye and headed over to his table. He wasn't surprised when he saw Hermione and Ginny both awake and conversing together in low tones. He was surprised, however, when he noticed Ron talking with the twins further down the table. There was still an hour until classes began, and Ron didn't usually wake up until he only had thirty minutes to rush around and get ready. The girls looked busy, and he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know what they were on about, so he stepped lithely past them and plonked himself down beside Ron, opposite the twins. They had a small assortment of brightly-wrapped sweets lying in front of them, but they didn't look like anything Harry had ever seen before.

"Morning, Harry," George beamed at him.

"We're just showing ickle Ronniekins a little project we've been working on," Fred explained, noticing Harry's curiosity of the sweets.

"Little project my arse," Ron said, sounding awed. "Blimey."

"What are they?" Harry asked. This was why he liked being friends with the twins, and Ron; although they knew how to be serious, the usually knew when all Harry wanted was some sort of distraction. And 'distraction' was their middle names.

"Sweets!" Fred said proudly.

"Part of our skiving snackboxes," George added. "For our new shop."

"Skiving snackboxes?" Harry asked, his curiosity growing further.

"Our best invention yet!" Fred told him excitedly. "See, all the sweets have a purpose."

"They have two ends," George told him, pulling an already unwrapped sweet out of his pocket. They were small and square, and each end of it was coloured differently.

"One end," Fred said, pointing to the pink end of the sweet in George's hand, "makes you do something, like puke, or get a nosebleed. The other," he pointed to the yellow end, "clears it all up and makes you better."

"The perfect way of getting out of class!" George finished up.

Harry had to admit he was impressed. The idea was very original, and he didn't want to think about the amount of time and thought the twins must have put into them. They sounded like pretty hard work for a couple of seventh years.

"And they're finished?" he finally asked.

"Mostly," Fred nodded. "The Nosebleed Nuggets and Puking Pastilles are, anyway. That's those two," he added, pointing to bright purple and orange wrapped sweets.

"The rest are nearly done," George chimed in. "We just need to do a few more tests. But we're going to start selling the Nuggets and Pastilles."

"Just keep them away from Hermione," Ron warned, speaking up at last. "Somehow, I don't think she'll approve of them."

The twins both gave care-free shrugs. "And what's she going to do?" George asked. We have loads of these babies, so even if she tries to confiscate them she'll never be able to find them all."

"I agree with Ron, though," Harry butted in. "Much as I love her, she can get annoying sometimes." Really, he was thinking more of S.P.E.W, but either way, she would work hard to get what she wanted – which, in this case, would be to get rid of Fred and George's new inventions.

**.**

Classes that day passed very slowly. Herbology never required much thought, and left Harry with far too much time to spend thinking about his vision. Ron and Hermione tried their best to keep him distracted, but he just couldn't seem to keep his mind from wondering back to the horrific abuse that Voldemort and his followers had given that small boy.

In Transfiguration, they were carrying on from their previous lesson since less than half the class had successfully completed their work. McGonagall gave Harry and the others some new work, but it was something that he had covered with Tonks during the summer and he finished it easily; even faster than Hermione, which was unusual. After some nudges and meaningful looks from both Hermione and Ron, Neville sauntered over and asked Harry to help him with his work, because he didn't quite get it. It helped, a little.

By the end of the day, Harry was starting to slip again. Whereas he had felt almost normal this morning, especially after seeing what Tonks had done to Moony, he felt almost depressed in Potions. Twice, he had nearly blown his potion up, and halfway through the class Ron and Hermione swapped so that Ron was partnered with Neville, and Hermione could keep Harry straight. No one brought up the subject of Harry's vision, although it was clear in everybody's eyes that they wanted to. He found himself slipping in and out of focus, and didn't even notice when Malfoy loudly insulted him in front of everyone. When the bell rang at the end of class, Harry jumped and dropped the small phial of potion he had been holding. Luckily, Hermione hadn't vanquished the potion from their cauldron yet, and she carefully filled another phial before doing so.

"Harry," a voice called out. "A minute, please."

Hermione gave him a quick, concerned smile before leaving with Ron and Neville, who both gave him uncertain looks.

"Yes?" Harry asked after a moment, slinging his bag onto his back and walking slowly towards Snape.

"Why did you come to classes today?" Severus asked after a moment of indecisiveness. Obviously, he had more than one thing he wanted to say.

"Thought they might distract me," Harry told him tonelessly.

"And did they?"

"Not especially."

There was a moment of silence, as his uncle gazed at him. He could feel the concern that the potions teacher felt for him, and he didn't know whether to be touched or irritated. His emotions felt wacked up, and completely beyond his control.

"I had a meeting with Albus during lunch," Severus finally said, his voice cutting through the heavy silence like a knife. "We think we may have found something to help you block your visions."

Harry's head, which had been down as his gaze was on the floor, shot up. "You do?"

"Possibly. I cannot stress enough that there is no guarantee it will work, as it is a skill that even many adults struggle to learn."

"I don't care," Harry said stubbornly. "I want to try. I don't want to keep having visions… each one is always more horrible than the last. I don't want to know what the next one might be like."

"No," Severus said softly. "I don't think you do. Voldemort commits terrible, terrible acts against Muggles and Muggle-borns." Another pause. "The skill that we wish to try is called Occlumency. Essentially, it teaches you to block your mind from mental attacks. It is a counter to Legilimency, which is what you use to break into another's mind. I can't promise that even if you learn it, it will work; what Voldemort does is not the same as Legilimency, as it works through a direct connection to your scar. However, it is a form of mental attack, so if you can Occlude your mind strongly enough, you may be able to block him out."

Harry's mind was whirling with all the information that had just been given to him, but he had followed enough to understand the basic concept, and it sounded promising. Blocking Voldemort out of his mind…

"Who will teach me it?"

"I will," Severus told him, inclining his head a little. "Not to boast, but I am exceptionally well skilled at both Occlumency and Legilimency. I was lucky; they came very naturally to me."

"Okay," Harry nodded. "When do we start?" He wanted to start as soon as possible. The sooner he could block out those horrific visions, the better… and if it was going to be as hard as his uncle said it was to learn, then he needed to start soon.

"On the evenings that we usually practice defence, I shall now teach you Occlumency," Severus told him.

"So, Saturday? And Sunday?"

"That is correct," Severus nodded slightly, and then pushed a book towards Harry that Harry hadn't even noticed was on the desk. "Read this before then. It will explain in much more depth exactly what Occlumency is, and will help you prepare for our lesson."

"Okay," Harry agreed. He took the book, and slipped it carefully into his bag. "Thanks, Sev. Can I go now?"

"You may," Severus told him. "And, Harry?"

Harry paused, turning back to face his uncle.

"I know you must have been told this very same thing by many people, but I am here if you wish to talk. Even if it hurts, it is far better to let everything out than to keep it bottled up, thinking it insignificant or a burden to whomever you talk to."

"I know," Harry assured him, managing to give him a small smile.

.

After dinner, Harry tiredly followed his friends back to the Gryffindor common room. He felt exhausted, and the noise of the room didn't help the headache that was starting to build up. Over in one corner, he could see the twins and Lee Jordan sitting together and the faint sight of brightly-wrapped sweets. Hermione went straight to working on her Arithmancy homework, and Ron was plating Neville at chess. After watching them for awhile, Harry pulled some fresh parchment to start working on his Herbology homework, which was to write a short essay on the effects of Alihotsy. Working on the essay in his state of mind, however, and with all the noisy distractions of the common room, was hard, and he soon gave up.

"I'm going to go see Moony and Padfoot," Harry told Ron, slipping his work back into his bag. He'd take it with him, and maybe he would be able to work on it in the quieter atmosphere his guardians quarters provided.

"Okay, mate," Ron answered, looking up from his chess game at Harry's face. "You going to stay the night again?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. I'll see what happens."

Ron nodded understandingly. "All right, then."

"Bye, Harry," Neville said quietly.

"See you, Neville."

.

Harry had expected a nice, quiet atmosphere when he got to his guardians quarters. He'd expected to find Sirius marking homework, Moony reading a book and, if she was still there, Tonks to be telling jokes.

How wrong he was.

When he arrived, five minutes later, he found the room in disarray. The sofas were pink, the walls covered in splodges of this and that. He had no idea where Sirius was, but Remus and Tonks were both sporting numerous prank-wounds; Remus was wearing a ballet outfit and his ears had grown as long as a rabbits, and Tonks looked like a professional body-builder. He finally spotted Sirius, hiding behind one of the pink sofas in his Animagus form with his fur coloured the same shade of pink as the sofas. He had spotted Harry, and was wagging his tail happily.

In the brief moment that Harry had stopped focusing on Tonks and Remus, the two had noticed him, and before he knew what happened he found himself with long, curly blonde hair and bright red stilettos. The moment he tried to step forward, he crashed to the ground, unable to walk in the thin heels, and he kicked them off as quickly as he could before whipping his wand out. He obviously wasn't going to get the silence he was after, so he might as well join in. Besides, he owed them big time for the blonde hair. He had a few new tricks up his sleeve; prank spells that Fred and George had told him about.

He felt his depressed mood slipping away as Sirius popped back into his human form, and the four started duelling each other. Tonight was going to be fun.

* * *

Wow. All I can say is: _finally_!

I'm so, so, so sorry for not updating : (.

I completely lost my motivation. Chapter six was a struggle to write and, after that, I just lost it. I kept trying at chapter seven, and I kept getting nowhere. However, on Wednesday night I deleted everything i had of chapter seven, and started re-writing it. And voila. It's a lot, lot shorter than usual - at least one third of the usual length - but it's all I can do for now xD.

Also, it has only been beta-read by myself, so I apologise for any mistakes you may have come across. It's ten past one in the morning, and I'm tired. Extremely tired... but I wanted to get this posted up.

Let me know what you think, okay? I can't promise that updates will be fast or long but, since school officially ended for the summer holidays today, I do have seven long weeks to work at this.

By the way... this is the first chapter I've written since turning fifteen . My birthday is in February; it was four days after I posted chapter six, I think, but I completely forgot to mention it xD.

Anyhoo... again, I apologise for not updating in such a long time. I'm still looking for reading recommendations if you have any.


	8. Past Horrors

**HP Year 5: Let the War Begin  
**_Chapter 8_

* * *

By the end of the week, Harry felt back to normal. He no longer dwelled on his latest vision, and the incessant urge to cut himself was nearly completely gone. He had finished reading the book on Occlumency that morning (Friday morning), and now didn't know if he was looking forward to his first lesson, or dreading it.

He knew he ought to look forward to it, because it was the only idea anyone had had so far for stopping his visions. At the same time, though, he knew that the lesson would bring forth a lot of unpleasant memories that he hadn't had to think about in years – and that his uncle (Sev) would see them. Until he learned to Occlude himself, even slightly, the Legilimency that would be placed on him would bring forward all of his most painful memories, and many were memories that his guardians and Severus knew nothing about, as Harry had thus far escaped with telling them very little about the abuse he had suffered. He came close to telling Severus he didn't want to learn Occlumency, but knew that he couldn't do it. He had to stop these visions… and, really, perhaps it was time people learned the true extent of the abuse he had suffered. He knew by now that sharing his problems with his guardians helped him, but he didn't see how he could ever openly talk about it… so perhaps it was a good thing Snape would see his memories.

Still, no matter how much Harry tried to convince himself of this – because he knew that it was reasonable, rational logic – he couldn't help but be scared. Terrified, even… because as much as he knew his guardians and Severus deserved to know the truth, he didn't want them to. He didn't want them to think he was weak (although again, his rational side kept trying to tell him they wouldn't think he was weak at all), or to be disappointed in how little Harry apparently trusted them. They knew Harry hadn't told them everything, but he knew that they thought Harry had told them most of what had gone on at Number 4, Privet Drive.

So, he figured, it really wasn't much of a surprise that he had trouble concentrating during the keeper tryouts at five o'clock (when Ron owned the pitch. He had turned out to be _far_ better than any other tryers, just as Harry had assured the redhead he would), or during his training session with Tonks that evening. She was beating him far easier than she had in a long time, and he could see in her eyes that this worried her.

"Something up, Harry?" Tonks asked after disarming him for the hundredth time that night.

Harry merely shrugged in response. How do you say you're afraid that people are going to learn about just how horrible your childhood really is?

"Is your vision still bothering you?" Tonks asked hesitantly, reluctant to bring the sensitive subject up.

"Not really," Harry shook his head. "I'm fine as long as I don't think about it." He sighed. "I just can't stop thinking about that Occlumency lesson. That's all."

"Oh." Tonks didn't seem to know what to say. "You'll be fine," she settled on eventually. "You pick things up easy. I'm sure it won't be too hard."

Harry smiled at her. "It's not the difficulty I'm worried about. It's the fact that learning it will make me think of the Dursleys again." Not the whole truth of why he was worried, but it was a part, at least, and it gave him an excuse for being so uptight and tense.

"Why don't you take Sirius or Remus with you, then?" Tonks suggested.

Harry gave her a look. "I can talk to Sev too, you know. I wish you lot would trust him more."

"Just trying to help," Tonks said, holding up her hands. "But Snape's pretty good at Legilimency. Maybe he'll be able to stop some of _those_ memories popping up."

"Nah, I don't think he can, really," Harry told her, shrugging a little. "I'll just need to put up with it. Doesn't stop me worrying, though. You've seen what I'm like after nightmares."

Tonks nodded her head sombrely. "Well, you have a huge group of people who are here if you need them, Harry. Try not to forget that. None of us are going to judge you for what the Dursleys did, or how you feel about everything. You can trust us."

"I know I can," Harry told her, trying to assure himself as much as her. He felt embarrassed for making what should have been a fun training session into something sappy. "Now," he said lightly, trying to change the subject. "Are we going to duel, or are we going to stand about gossiping like a pair of old ladies all night?"

.

It took Harry forever to fall asleep that night, despite his exhaustion from his training session with Tonks. He was back in his own dormitory, and the light sound of snoring surrounded him – well, light from every bed except Rons. Memories of his life at the Dursleys flashed through his mind, taunting him, giving him a taster of what would surely come in his Occlumency lesson, and when morning arrived he was tense and tired, having gotten no more than an hours worth of sleep.

As soon as he felt it was late enough that people wouldn't find it odd he was up and about, Harry quietly dressed himself and left Gryffindor tower. He wanted a walk; that sound nice and relaxing. Perhaps he could throw some rocks into the water, too, and try and relieve some of tension from his muscles. He was angry with himself for letting his upcoming lesson affect him so much, but felt powerless to do anything to fix it. No matter what he tried to talk himself into believing, it always came down to one simple fact: tonight, he was going to be forced to relive memories he'd rather forget.

Having been as deeply immersed in his thoughts as he was, Harry was startled when he found himself already standing beside the lake. Goosebumps lightly covered his arms, as he hadn't thought to put on a cloak – although, to be fair, he hadn't thought he would need one when it was technically still summer. He frowned to himself slightly as he bent over to collect some of the larger rocks scattered around the earth. He really oughtn't to lose track of his surroundings like that. Anything could happen – safe as Hogwarts was from Voldemort and his followers, it didn't stop trouble springing up between the inhabitants already there, and Malfoy had already proved he didn't mind having his friends sneakily gang up on Harry.

Satisfied with his small bundle of rocks for the moment, Harry stepped back from the river and cast a small hovering charm on the rocks to keep them floating within arms reach. That done, he set about lunging each one into the still water, putting as much strength and emotion into each throw as he could. With each rock he threw, he could feel his emotion building higher and higher inside him; his fear, his anger, his pain enveloping him. His emotions from his vision came back to haunt him, and he found himself managing to throw the rocks further and further. His arm was starting to protest, but only faintly and Harry found it easy to ignore. When his collection of rocks was depleted, he wasted no time in simply summoning more to himself, not caring much for the size of them anymore, and continuing to hurl them into the water.

Harry kept up his relentless attack of the water for nearly an hour before finally sinking to his knees on the ground, staring numbly out at the water. He felt exhausted after his barrage, but he couldn't deny that he definitely felt better. His heart felt ten times lighter than it had this morning, and he almost wondered how it was possible he had been so deeply affected by something that he knew would only help him.

"That was impressive," a dreamy voice commented.

"It was nothing special," Harry shrugged, not turning round. He had become aware of Luna's presence about ten minutes ago, although he had no idea how long she had really been there for. He had been too engrossed with what he was doing to really pay much attention to his surroundings, although he didn't bother scolding himself this time. He was too tired. He sensed rather than heard Luna stepping forward, and sitting down a few inches to his right.

"I do that sometimes," she told him. When he glanced at her, he found her gaze on the now-calm water.

"Throw rocks?"

She nodded. "Little ones, though. Not the big ones you were using. And not for as long."

"Funny," Harry commented. "You never struck me as the violent type."

Luna gave him a small smile. "Daddy used to do it, back home. There's a pond near where we live. I suppose I copied it from him."

"Well, it works."

"Yes, it does."

The two became silent after that, each gazing out over the water and lost in their own thoughts. Eventually, Harry's stomach gave an audible growl, and he stood up.

"Have you had breakfast yet, Luna?"

The blonde girl shook her head without looking at him. "I don't want any. I'll get a snack from the kitchens later."

"Okay," Harry said awkwardly. Luna had an odd look on her face, as though something was bothering her, but he didn't know how to bring the subject up with her. Luna was so odd sometimes, and he never knew how she would react so certain questions. After opening and closing his mouth several times like a fish, he finally decided on the blunt approach.

"Luna, is something wrong?"

This time, she did look at him, and Harry was dismayed to see her usual bright eyes looking dark and haunted. "I'll be okay," she assured him. Despite her saddened eyes, her smile was real.

"Luna…" Harry trailed off, not entirely sure what to say. He didn't want to pressure her into talking, as he knew how irritating that could be, but he was worried.

"I'll be okay," Luna repeated, before turning her gaze back to the water. "Your stomach is growling, Harry. Maybe you should feed it. I just need time to think."

"Okay," Harry relented. "Um, you know we'll listen, right? Me, and Ron, and Hermione, and everyone. You know, if you want to talk."

"I know, Harry," Luna said, and she sounded almost tired. The attitude was so unlike Luna that Harry felt his worry building, and he almost stayed to argue with her until she told him what was wrong. He knew, though, how much he would hate that if it was done to him, so after a long moment of gazing at his dreamy friend he turned and headed quietly back up to the castle.

.

When Harry found Hermione and Cho sitting with Neville at the Gryffindor table, he hesitated before sitting down. He had come in hoping to find them so he could talk to them about Luna, but now that he was actually there he didn't know whether that would be a good idea or not. Thankfully, Cho sensed his indecisiveness and essentially made his choice for him.

"Did something happen out there?" Cho asked after trading a look with Hermione.

"Luna joined me by the lake," Harry said slowly. "She was upset about something."

"Oh," Cho said softly, understanding dawning in her eyes almost immediately. "Today will be a tough day for her. I can't believe I forgot!"

"What is it?" Neville asked, after swallowing a mouthful of toast.

After glancing around her to make sure no one was eavesdropping, Cho lowered her voice and said, "today's the fifth anniversary of her mothers death."

"That's terrible," Hermione said softly, one hand covering her mouth. Her eyes were round, and sympathetic.

Cho nodded. "Keep it to yourselves, though. She doesn't like talking about it much."

"We will," Harry assured her. Poor Luna. "How did her mum die?"

"From a potions accident," Cho told him after a moment. "Luna was there when it happened, too."

"Luna was _there_?" Neville gaped.

"Yeah, she was," Cho confirmed with a sad smile. "Just leave her alone for today, though. She likes her own company on the anniversaries."

It wasn't hard to leave Luna alone. Even if Harry had wanted to seek her out, she was nowhere to be found. Not on the grounds when he went for a run, nor in the library when he went to do his homework. Cho told him later that she hadn't been in the Ravenclaw common room, either. She also told him, though, that Luna had a lot of hiding places – although, that much, Harry already knew. Luna's tendencies to walk around whilst daydreaming meant she discovered a lot of places by accident that most people never noticed. Of course, if Harry desperately wanted to find her, he knew the Marauders Map would show him exactly where she was.

.

Harry's Occlumency lesson that night was scheduled for eight o'clock, so at seven he went to see Sirius and Remus, hoping that maybe being with them would help calm his jittery nerves.

"Hey, kiddo," Sirius greeted Harry as he entered the room. His godfather was stretched out on the couch, and had obviously been in the middle of teasing Remus – who was sitting on the single sofa chair with an open book lying on his lap – about something.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Remus asked, seeing past Harry's smile to the dull look in his eyes. Sirius shifted up from his lying position so that there was space for Harry to sit beside him, and Harry gladly took it.

"Is it about your Occlumency lesson?" Remus tried again when Harry didn't respond. "Tonks mentioned that you were worried about it."

Harry nodded slightly, not looking at either of his guardians. Beside him, he felt Sirius shifting again, and then he felt his godfathers arm snaking around his shoulders and hugging him close.

"Do you want us to come with you?" Sirius offered.

"No," Harry said, finally speaking up. "Sev can take just as much care of me as you two could if something happens."

"It's not about us not trusting him, pup," Remus told him, instantly understanding where Harry's reluctance was coming from. "But having three people there to support you is better than one. You're going to have to face some things that you haven't thought about in a long time. We just want to make sure you're okay."

Harry closed his eyes tightly as he felt the same fear he had gotten rid of only that morning building up in him again. He felt ashamed. Why was he so scared? They were only memories. His Uncle – no, Vernon – couldn't really hurt him anymore. Abruptly, he turned and buried his face in Sirius' side, wrapping his arms tightly around his godfather. He did know why he was scared. Memories did hurt, just as much as they had at the time. And he still wasn't ready for his guardians, and Severus, to know all his childhood secrets. It didn't matter if he knew they deserved to know, or that he would undoubtedly feel better when they did know; he quite simply wasn't ready for them to know. But if he didn't do this, he would have to continue having visions, and he wasn't sure which was worse.

Harry jumped when he felt Sirius place his hand on his back and rub soothing circles on it.

"You're going to be okay, Harry," he heard Sirius trying to assure him. "Snape'll take it slow. He doesn't want to hurt you either. We'll come, too, just incase. We'll stay back, though, and let Snape do his thing. We'll be there for you, kiddo. You'll be fine. You've lived through it all once, you're strong."

"You don't have to do it, you know," Remus said quietly from behind him, having joined the two on the couch now. "I'm sure we can find something else to try, if you don't want to do this."

"No," Harry said in a small, quiet voice. He coughed a little, trying to clear his throat of the annoying lump that had appeared. "No," he repeated, his voice stronger this time. "I need to do this… what if there is nothing else?" He tightened his hold on Sirius. "Besides… there's so much I haven't told you, and can't tell you. I can't talk about it. You always said you wanted to understand, and know more about what they did. Maybe now you will."

Sirius looked up at Remus, feeling completely at a loss for words. Yes, they did want to know more about how the Dursleys had treated Harry, but not if it made Harry like this. They had never seen Harry look so scared and broken before, not even when they had first found him lying battered and bruised on his bed, deserted at Privet Drive.

"We do want to know what they did to you, Harry," Remus said finally, taking charge. "But not until you're ready, which at the moment you're clearly not."

Harry shrugged in response. "I need to learn the Occlumency, don't I? I don't want to keep having visions. Maybe it'll be like… well, you know. I would never have told you about my self-harm problem, but I did feel better once you knew. Maybe it'll be like that. Things always seem worse when you keep them to yourself, don't they?" Harry didn't know if Sirius understood the last bit, but he knew Remus did. He knew how much poor Moony had hated keeping his 'furry problem' a secret from his friends, and how much better he had felt when his friends knew the truth.

"What time is it?" Harry asked suddenly, afraid that he would be late. He felt like he had been here for hours.

"It's just after ten to eight," Sirius said, craning his neck to see the clock they had up on the wall.

"I guess I better head down, then," Harry mumbled, pulling himself away from Sirius.

"Are you sure?" Remus asked uncertainly. "You don't have to start tonight, you know. You could start tomorrow, or next week."

"And panic for another week?" Harry asked, giving him a tight smile. "I think I'd rather just get it over with."

"And you're absolutely positive you don't want us to come with you?" Sirius asked, obviously hoping Harry would change his mind.

"I'll be okay."

Sirius and Remus traded a look that clearly said they didn't believe him, and Harry couldn't blame them. After the way he had acted tonight, he wouldn't have believed himself either.

.

Harry paused in the hallway, after quietly closing the door behind him, and simply stood for a moment, gathering his thoughts together without anyone else there to distract him. He did feel a little better now, after his time with Sirius and Remus… but he was still scared out of his mind. Sighing, he set off down towards the dungeons. It really was better to get it all over and done with, wasn't it?

Harry passed several students on his journey through the school, but thankfully they did no more than stare at him as he walked past. He didn't think he could put up with people coming up to him to ask questions right now. As he neared the dungeons, he saw less and less people, until he was alone – or, at least, he had thought he was alone, until a familiar boy rounded the corner. Harry tensed instinctively, his body alert as Blaise Zabini looked up and noticed him.

"Potter," Zabini hissed. Almost instantly, he had pulled his wand out of his pocket and was regarding Harry with suspicious eyes.

"Zabini," Harry said in a level tone, bringing his own wand up and switching inconspicuously to a battle stance.

"What are you doing down here?" Zabini asked, with hate and distrust clearly visible in his voice.

"I think you'll find, Zabini, that that is none of your business."

"It is when you're down in my part of the school."

"Anyone can go to the dungeons, Zabini."

"Not Gryffindors. We don't come up to your tower."

"Yes, well, you can't brew potions up there, can you?" Harry asked icily. Knowing that if he didn't hurry, he would be late, Harry stepped slowly forwards and started making his way towards Zabini.

"If you must know, I have a detention with Professor Snape," Harry told the Slytherin boy frostily. It was the first excuse that came into his head. He didn't want to blow Severus' cover. Zabini would no doubt be telling all his friends about his encounter with Harry, so word would make its way to Voldemort if anyone knew the real reason for Harry visiting Snape… and Snape would most certainly be punished if Voldemort found out about their Occlumency lessons. He wouldn't want Harry to have an extra defence against him.

"Not so fast!"

Harry barely had time to duck as a red stunner shot his way.

"What the hell was that for?" Harry cried, throwing a shield up to deflect any more stunners that Zabini might send his way.

Zabini simply smirked at him, and Harry had the uncomfortable feeling that the Slytherins were plotting something against him. Zabini kept up a relentless attack, but every spell he sent was deflected into the wall by Harry's shield, and Harry was growing impatient. Careful to keep his shield up, he sent a quick stunner at Zabini who, not expecting the attack, fell instantly unconscious. He glared at the boy as he walked swiftly past, not wanting to be any later now for his lesson than he already was. He didn't particularly care what become of the Slytherin, so he left him lying in the hall.

"I was about to floo for you," Severus said when Harry finally reached his uncles quarters.

"Sorry," Harry muttered. "Got delayed."

Snape raised an eyebrow, but did not ask for the reason, for which Harry was glad. He didn't want to waste time talking about one stupid Slytherin; he wanted to get this lesson done and over with.

"How do we start?" Harry asked when Snape didn't say anything. "I read the book… I've been practicing, trying to think of water." That was one of the methods the book had mentioned; since many found it difficult to clear their minds completely, it was easier for most to simply focus on one thing, and the recommended thing to think about was an element. Harry had chosen water, since he always found staring at the lake outside so calming.

"You do know, Harry, that you will undoubtedly face many unpleasant memories this evening?"

Harry felt his hands curl into fists at his side as he fought to stay in control of his emotions. "Yes," he said in as strong a voice as he could manage. Severus' eyes glanced at Harry's fists for a moment, but his uncle seemed to understand his determination to see the lesson through.

"Alright, then. Sit in the middle of the floor, please. I would have you standing, but I don't want to run the risk of you falling during one of your memories."

"Okay," Harry said softly. He sat in the middle of the floor as asked, and closed his eyes as he tried to keep himself calm. When he opened them again, he found Severus sitting directly opposite him, his wand in hand.

"Before we begin, your guardians requested that I seek your permission to allow them access to the memories I see tonight."

"Why?" Harry asked without thinking. "Oh." He did know. He had mentioned at some point, had he not, that this was how he would tell them of his childhood. Because he would never talk about it, he had told them he was glad, in a way, that he would be able to show them the memories. "Yeah, sure." He just wanted to start. Severus must have sensed his impatience, for he smiled a little before shifting into a more comfortable position.

"Do you remember how to empty your mind?"

"I think so," Harry said uncertainly. "Although, I didn't know if I was doing it correctly to begin with."

"Try," Severus urged him. The two fell into silence as Harry focused to do what he had been practicing whenever he had quiet time to himself. He tried to imagine the water, like a protective blanket covering his memories. "Let me know when you're ready," Severus' voice came floating across, echoing off the water. Harry felt almost peaceful now, and felt quite sure the blanket of water was safely in place.

"I think… I'm ready…"

"Legilimens."

.

Almost at once, Harry felt an unnerving presence in his mind. It was prodding at the blanket, cautiously at first, but then more determinedly. It was trying to break through, it wanted to see his thoughts… and suddenly the water was gone, as though evaporated by fire – and with the disappearance of his protective blanket came the unstoppable rush of memories.

_He was five, and it was Dudley's sixth birthday. He was being hit by his Uncle Vernon for touching sweet Duddykin's cake, although it was really Dudley who had licked all the icing off when Aunt Petunia wasn't watching._

_He was seven, and he had burned the breakfast. Aunt Petunia had hit him over the head with the frying pan without letting it cool down, and his head burned painfully. He was stuck in his cupboard, trembling, knowing that when his Uncle arrived home he would be receiving another bad beating; that was the second time that week he had managed to burn the food._

_He was eight and, after a particularly bad haircut, was surprised to find his hair had re-grown overnight. Uncle Vernon was furious at him for using his 'freaky power' and was adamant he be appropriately punished…_

_He was nine, and his Uncle was drunk. He was lying out in the hallway, having been dragged from his cupboard, and his Uncle was beating him about the head…_

And suddenly, the presence in his mind was gone. The memories stopped flowing, although the fear that had settled heavily in Harry's stomach didn't. He could feel himself pressed against something hard, and could feel his arms wrapped protectively around himself. He kept his eyes shut. He felt completely disorientated… where was he? Why had his Uncle stopped hitting him? A hand lay itself lightly on his shoulder, and Harry flinched back from the contact.

"Open your eyes, Harry."

Who was that? His Uncle didn't refer to him as 'Harry' – nor did he address Harry in such a gentle tone. Breathing heavily, Harry slowly opened his eyes and, catching sight of the cauldron at the opposite end of the room, everything came flooding back. He sat up abruptly, startling even himself.

"Sorry," he muttered, not looking at Severus. He lifted a hand to his face self-consciously, wiping away the tear marks. When had he cried? He felt ashamed of himself, and he was terrified to see his Uncle's – Severus', not Vernon's – face.

"Harry, look at me."

Harry numbly shook his head.

"Look at me." When Harry still didn't look up, Severus reached out to tilt Harry's head up himself. "What are you apologising for?" he asked, when Harry finally met his gaze.

Harry tried to look away, but Snape's grip held his gaze firmly in place. "For not blocking you out. For letting you see that."

"Harry…" Snape sighed; something that was completely uncharacteristic for the potions master. "I didn't expect you to block me. In fact, your Occlumency shield was stronger than I expected for someone who only had one book as a reference. Look at me, Harry," he said, for Harry had managed to drop his gaze again. Unwillingly, he looked back up. "I am not going to judge you by your memories. What the Dursleys did – how they treated you – that is not your fault. It does not make you weak, as you seem to think it does."

"Sirius and Remus have already told me all that," Harry mumbled.

"And yet you do not believe it."

"I do!" Harry hastened to object. "I do, I believe them… I just…" Harry trailed off helplessly.

"No, you don't, Harry. You trust them, perhaps, and believe that there is truth to their words… but you don't believe them, not entirely. Even after staying with them for over a year, you still have an irrational fear of rejection from them."

Harry was silent. How was Severus so easily able to describe the strange, confusing mixture of emotions bubbling inside him right now? How was Severus able to say everything confidently; be so sure that what he was saying was the truth?

"Can we try again?" Harry asked, more for a change of subject than anything else.

"Are you certain that's a good idea?" Severus asked, sounding wary.

"Not really," Harry admitted. "But I want to learn… I need to learn this. I can't… I mean, I can't let – ah, crap." He didn't really know how to say what he felt. He didn't want anyone to see his memories, but he couldn't let that stop him learning Occlumency. He couldn't let his memories haunt him forever, however frightening confronting them seemed at the moment. He could see in Severus' eyes, though, that he understood what Harry was unable to say.

"Tell me when you're ready, Harry."

Harry nodded slightly, and closed his eyes. It was much harder to clear his mind this time round, with all his fear and uncertainty still clouding his mind, but eventually he felt the soothing water helping to push out the negative feelings. He waited for a moment longer, wanting to be certain his protective blanket of water was securely in his place, before opening his mouth. "Ready."

The blanket seemed to break far quicker this time, although even after memories started seeping through, Harry struggled to repair it, to reject the violent presence in his mind. When that failed, and the memories started whirling through his mind again, he was detached enough to realise they were far more random this time; rather than building up from older memories to newer ones, they were oddly mixed.

_It was his first time self-harming. He held the razor in his hands, his expression dreamy but confused. How could such a little metal blade help him feel so much better? How on earth did causing himself more pain help him feel better? It made no logical sense, and yet it made all the sense in the world. That little razor, that was his new best friend…_

_He was in the graveyard with Cedric and Viktor, the cup lying at their feet. He watched, powerless, as the life-taking green light hit his friend in the chest. He was paying no attention to Cedric, or the dangers that surrounded Harry himself… all he could see was Viktor lying on the ground, his lifeless eyes staring up at the sky…_

_He was in his Aunt and Uncles bedroom. His Aunt Petunia and Dudley were out, and Uncle Vernon had pulled him up to the bedroom._

_"I want to try something fun," he had said. _

_He had proceeded to shove Harry roughly on the bed, and before the little seven-year old boy knew what was happening, his clothes had been stripped off him. It didn't take long for his Uncle to join him on the bed, and the searing pain to start…_

_He was twelve. It was the night after the incident with Dobby, and the ruined dinner, and he was receiving the worst pounding he had in a long time. His head hurt, his face hurt, his body ached all over. Even through the pain, he panicked as he wondered how he would do his chores the next day – for he surely had to, lest he receive another beating for being so lazy…_

The memories stopped again, and Harry lay panting like a dog on the floor. He was completely aware of his surroundings this time, and as soon as he felt able to, he pushed himself into a sitting position and pushed himself away from Severus. Of all the memories for his Uncle to have seen, the first time he had been sexually abused was the worst one… when he glanced up, he caught sight of the livid expression on the Potion Masters face, and felt a trickle of fear inside him.

"I think -" Harry's voice broke, and he struggled to regain his composure before trying again. "I think that's enough for tonight… I can't do that again."

Just hearing Harry's voice brought Severus back down to Earth, and his expression instantly evened out.

"You did much better that time, Harry," Severus complimented him, not bothering to stand up. He slid forward a little on the floor, and Harry instantly pushed himself further back.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Severus said, his voice soft and reassuring.

"I know you're not," Harry told him, not meeting his gaze. He did know that. But he couldn't help the fear that was inside him now, and he didn't want to disappoint Severus by flinching away from physical contact. It was better just to stay away from him, and avoid a situation like that. He knew the fear he felt was irrational, and was only leftover from his memories… but all he could feel was Vernon's hands on him, determined to make him feel pain.

"Then why won't you let me near?" Severus asked, inching his way towards Harry again. As he had done the last time, Harry pushed himself backwards – and this time, his back came into contact with the wall.

"Stop!" he yelled when Severus yet again inched closer. His Uncle stopped, unsure as to what to do. Harry felt tears – tears of pain, fear, shame – falling down his cheeks, and he could feel his whole body trembling. He was suddenly aware of a pain in his head, a developing headache – from what? The Legilimency? The stress of his memories?

Suddenly a new pain joined. It wasn't his headache, but it was in his head – it was his scar. It was prickling, quickly burning up, becoming more and more painful.

"Sev," Harry croaked, his voice thick and raw with pain and emotion. "My scar…"

This time, he didn't back away from his Uncle, although he did flinch when Severus wrapped one arm tightly around him, using his other hand to trace his scar lightly with one cool finger. He could feel himself slipping then, as two separate sights tried to confuse his mind; one part of him was seeing Severus, his lips moving soundlessly, and the other a completely new image. It wasn't an attack, by the looks of it, merely a small meeting. He counted seven Death Eaters in the room, and Nagini sitting by the fire…

.

Harry was angry. His idiotic servants had yet again failed to complete the simplest of tasks. He glared at them all, daring them to try and defend themselves. He had sent fifteen of them, and what did he have now? Seven idiots who didn't deserve to be in his ranks at all, and eight more idiots rotting away in Azkaban.

"You will pay," Harry said icily. "One of that blundering fool's students could have done a better job than a cluster of you accomplished together."

None of the worthless fools in front of him said a word. Suddenly knowing what Voldemort was going to do, Harry started fighting furiously, trying to get out of the monsters mind.

"MacDougall, step forward."

No, no, no, Harry cried desperately to himself. He hurt enough. He didn't need to feel the added pain of the Cruciatus curse. Think, Harry. How do you get out? He hadn't succeeded at all in pushing Severus out and, in any case, he wasn't trying to push Voldemort out of his mind; he was trying to pull himself out of Voldemort's.

"Crucio!"

The pain burned through Harry, and he felt it as clearly as if it were being cast on his own body. He screamed right along with the man currently writhing on the floor at Voldemort's feet, struggling to retain his focus even after the curse had ceased. Phantom pain, Harry thought idly. It was a phrase Hermione had used one, and had then had to explain the definition of to Ron. Knowing it wouldn't be long until the Cruciatus was used on yet another Death Eater, Harry set about trying to get out. He tried to ignore everything of Voldemort that he could feel, and think only of his protective blanket of water.

.

And then, quite suddenly, he felt a tugging sensation. It felt like someone was pulling him back and, although he was hesitant at first in case it was a trick, he soon allowed it to pull him, and gasped when he found himself in his own body once more. His head was on Severus' lap, and his Uncle's fingers were resting lightly on his head… and then he realized what had happened. Snape had used Legilimency to break into Harry's mind and pull him back from Voldemort's.

Thinking of Severus being in his mind reminded Harry once again of Vernon and, with that reminder, the fear he had felt before returned. He pulled away from Severus' grasp, opting to sit a few inches in front of him. Severus was eyeing him warily, having noticed the return of Harry's previous emotions.

"Are you in pain?" Severus asked quietly, not bothering to attempt to get close to Harry this time.

Harry nodded silently, not trusting himself to speak. His head hurt, whether from the lesson or his vision he wasn't sure, and his side hurt too. He had no idea what he had done to it, but it felt painful enough that he was sure it would bruise. He jumped when a potion was suddenly placed in front of him.

"But I had a vision," Harry said, his voice dry. "Won't that interfere with the potions I need for that?"

"Ah, so you do pay attention in Potions," Severus smiled slightly. "However, no. That is a fairly simple pain relieving potion that should not interfere with the other two at all."

"Okay." That was all Harry needed to down the potion, and he felt a little better when the pain in his side disappeared and his headache became nothing more than a dull throb.

"Would you prefer to floo back up?" Severus asked, after disposing of the empty potion bottle.

Harry nodded tiredly. Now that the stabbing pain in his side was gone, there was nothing to keep him alert, and he felt himself becoming drowsy. He swayed a little when he stood, but stepped back out of reach when Severus tried to help him. He tried not to feel guilty when a brief look of hurt shot across his Uncle's face, nor when he flinched whilst accepted a handful of floo powder. He was so tired.

"I think perhaps we shall stick with your normal defence lesson tomorrow," Severus told him before he left. "One lesson a week will be taxing enough. Rest well, Harry."

.

Even though Severus had tried to act normal, mainly for Harry's sake he supposed, it was hard not to hear the concern in his voice, which only increased the guilt Harry felt for his actions when he finally stumbled out of the fireplace into the Marauder's Quarters. Although he wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep, he found the energy within him to dodge round Sirius' hands when he tried to help him up, and Remus' after that.

"Harry?" Sirius asked questioningly.

"Sleep," Harry slurred. "Leave m' a'one."

"Harry, what's wrong?" Remus asked worriedly. He had the sense not to try and touch Harry, although it was all too plain how much he wanted to.

"T'red. Oh," he added, suddenly remembering. "Need potions."

"You need potions?" Sirius repeated slowly. "What for?"

"Voldymort."

"You had a vision, whilst you were learning Occlumency?" Remus asked, his voice clear of any emotion that Harry could hear.

"Mmhmm. Sevvy helped though. Pull'd me ou'."

"Go to bed, Harry," Sirius said firmly. "I'll bring you your potions in a minute."

Harry didn't bother undressing, opting simply to slide under the covers. He obediently drank his potions when they were brought to him and, after being urged to rest by his guardians, let himself fall into blissful darkness.

He really had had quite a night.

* * *

Well, here we go! Chapter eight. I wasn't going to post it up until Friday, but I think that after waiting so patiently during the large break between chapters six and seven, you deserve some fast updates. And also... sorry if some parts are hard to understand. The silly editor keeps taking out all the parts I had in italics! I've managed to get some parts to stay... but I really can't be bothered fighting with the silly thing.

I hope this chapter wasn't too boring for you. I've started re-writing year 4 in my spare time, and re-reading year 5, and it struck me how little I seemed to write about Harry's emotions... so, well, this is my way of trying to make up for it, I suppose. The next chapter will focus a lot on Harry's thoughts and emotions too, so I'm sorry if you're not so keen on that kind of stuff - I do promise, though, that the events in chapter ten and eleven will _more_ than make up for it all!!

Also, wanted to make a quick mention to 2963 (who is a member, incase you're wondering). It was a comment of hers about how little I've shown you about how the Dursleys treated Harry that led me to introducing the Occlumency lessons now, rather than later in the story as I had originally planned.

As always, please read and review - it makes me feel good inside!

Oh! One last thing. Do you think the story is okay as it is, or would you rather I find a beta for it again? A beta would make the updates a little slower, but I don't know... maybe the story needs some help. What do you think?


	9. Chapter 9

**HP Year 5: Let the War Begin  
**_Chapter 9_

Harry didn't wake up until noon the next day, and when he did, all of his emotions crashed back down on him. He had been given a dreamless sleep, he assumed, as he had had no dreams; and without his dreams to deal with everything that had happened, he felt as though he had only just finished his Occlumency lesson. He felt jumpy, shivery… scared, still, though of what he didn't know – it was just a general feeling of fear, for anything and everything.

He left his bedroom hesitantly, not really sure he wanted to face Sirius and Remus, but much to his relief he found the place empty. Over by the fire, he found a note written in Remus' neat handwriting.

_Harry,_

_Albus called for a small Order meeting, and required that both myself and Sirius be there. It shouldn't take long, and we'll be back soon. We need to talk to you about last night._

_Moony_

We need to talk to you about last night… of course they did; talking healed everything, didn't it? Harry sighed softly to himself and turned away from the note. Maybe they did need to talk. Had he said anything last night? He couldn't remember… he remembered the Occlumency lesson, then backing away from Severus… he remembered having a vision, and his Uncle managing to pull him back… but what had he done after that? He couldn't remember leaving the dungeons at all. No, that was a lie. He could vaguely remember flooing back to here, and being extremely tired… but what did he say? What did he do when he arrived back? Why couldn't he remember?

Suddenly the room felt extremely claustrophobic, closing in on Harry. Panicking, Harry clambered over the sofa that was in his way and headed for the door. He wasted no time in making his way through the castle, only allowing himself to stop when he was finally free of the building. Around him, students were messing about, gossiping, sitting out in the sun to do their homework. He could see first year boys skimming rocks over the lake, and a team practicing – Hufflepuff, it looked like – on the Quidditch pitch.

"Did you hear?" a female voice was saying. It sounded excited. Harry turned to see two second-year Hufflepuff girls exiting the castle.

"Hear what?" the second girl asked. Her hair was brown and bushy, and reminded Harry of Hermione's.

"About the fight," the first girl, with silky black hair, replied with a giggle.

Harry frowned as they walked by. A fight? Their tones were hushed now, and Harry struggled to make out what they were saying. He did, however, hear the name 'Luna' crop up.

"Um, excuse me?" Harry called out, hurrying over to them. They turned, and the girl with the brown hair turned bright red. "Sorry, hi. I couldn't help but overhear your conversation… did you say there was a fight?"

"Oh, yes!" The black-haired girl exclaimed. "You're friends with her, aren't you? I've seen you with her."

"Yes, I am," Harry said impatiently. "But what was that about a fight?"

The girl looked unnerved by Harry's tone, but continued on nevertheless. "Well, I wasn't there… but, apparently, your friend was attacked. She's in the Hospital Wing just now, I think, and I overheard Professor McGonagall arguing with Snape about it."

"So she was attacked by Slytherins?" Harry asked, trying to keep himself calm.

"I think so," the girl said uncertainly. Obviously, she didn't want to give Harry the same exaggerated facts as she had been going to tell her friend.

.

So much for getting some fresh air, Harry thought, feeling a tad irritated as he traipsed back through the school. Still, he couldn't begrudge Luna for it, and he certainly couldn't sit outside knowing that he hadn't checked up on her. Whilst he knew that Luna was a very capable witch, he had never actually seen her duel, and he knew that just because she was capable didn't mean she would be a good fighter. Just look at Hermione; she was one of the brainiest witches Harry knew of, and although her vast knowledge of spells gave her a certain advantage, she was certainly no fighter. When he reached the Hospital Wing, he was unsurprised to see a large number of their 'group' already huddled around Luna, who was lying on one of the crisp, white beds. She looked okay, and seemed to be having an animated discussion with Cho about something.

"Hey, Luna," Harry said as he reached the bed. Ron shuffled to the side a bit, to allow Harry to fit into their little circle. Ginny was on his other side with Hermione beside her, and he could feel them both gazing critically at him. Of course, they'll be wondering just how badly my lesson went.

"I suppose the whole school knows now, doesn't it?" Luna asked. Her voice once again had its dreamy tone, and her eyes had lost the haunted look that they had had the day before.

"I don't know how many people know," Harry told her honestly. "And even the ones that are talking about it don't seem to know the real facts. Luna, what happened?"

"I was walking around the grounds," Luna explained to him. "I do that a lot. They were pretty empty at the time, too. I didn't expect to run into any trouble. When I got past the lake, though, they just appeared out of nowhere!" Harry understood that. Often, when Malfoy felt the urge to attack him, the Slytherins always seemed to appear out of thin air with no warning whatsoever.

"And who's 'they'?" Harry asked when Luna paused.

"Pansy Parkinson, and Millicent Bullstrode. It isn't the first time they've sought me out to tease me, but they've never actually attacked me before."

"Calm down, Harry," Ginny said quietly, placing a hand lightly on his arm. Harry shot her a look, but obediently sucked in a deep breath to get control of his temper. How dare they? Although Harry had found Luna's odd behaviour annoying in the early stages of their friendship, he felt almost as close to her as he did with Ron and Hermione – and with that closeness came his need to protect her, as he felt with all his friends.

"It's not so bad, Harry," Luna assured him brightly. "Ginny was out too, and she came. She beat them easily."

Beside him, Ginny turned pink. "I caught them by surprise," she muttered.

"Oh, Ginny," Hermione scolded. "Stop being so modest. I've seen you at Sirius' Defence group before. It's no wonder you managed to stop them so easily."

"Shut up, Hermione," Ginny scowled. Hermione, knowing that Ginny wasn't really mad, simply smiled at her.

"When are you getting out, Luna?" Cho asked, sensing that Ginny wanted a change of subject.

"Once my potion wears off, which should be in about twenty minutes."

.

The potion did indeed wear off within the next half hour, and when Cho told them she was going to go with Luna to the Ravenclaw common room for a while, Harry left his friends to continue on his walk – not that he had ever really started it to begin with. Now that his anger and concern had dissipated, he felt numb. He didn't even feel the fear he had felt this morning; he felt powerless, and numb. He bypassed the lake, not really wanting to sit in the middle of so many people, and carried on towards the forest. His heart gave a jolt in his stomach when his eyes fell upon the same rocks that he had found last year, after Hermione and Ginny had found out about his secret. Harry stepped slowly over to them, keeping his gaze steady. The rocks were clean, giving off no sign that anyone had once mashed their knuckles to a pulp on them. It was emptier here; the rocks were so close to the forest that people tended to stray away from the area, so Harry sat down on one of the larger rocks.

Why couldn't his life ever be easy? Right when he thought he was starting to get over his self-harming problem, he had to go and receive a vision that started everything all back up again. Even now, a week later, if he let his thoughts stray to what he had seen his skin would itch horribly. Then, too, right when he felt like he was starting to forget all about his life with the Dursleys, something had to crop up that would remind him. And not even remind him, as such… each memory that was pulled forward made Harry feel like he was reliving them, feeling all of the pain and fear that his younger self had felt at the time. It didn't matter that he knew they were only memories, or that he was more than capable now of defending him against his oaf of a relative. His younger self's emotions still lingered with him, making his mood unpredictable.

It didn't help, either, when on top of his already confused mind he had the added feeling of guilt for not being able to accept his guardians or friends help. He knew he worried them with his actions, but he felt helpless to do anything about it. He had gotten better at talking over the past year, but it still felt so much easier to keep everything bottled up. Truth be told, if Sirius and Remus didn't constantly prod him into talking about his emotions, he probably would keep everything entirely bottled up.

Like he was doing now. One painful event after another had forced Harry to retreat back into his old habits. Everything he had worked so hard to achieve in the past year was suddenly down the drain. He didn't want to talk. He wanted to keep things to himself, and cope with them himself. That made everything so much easier, and so much simpler. Abruptly, he decided that was what he would do. He would do things his way, just like he always had before. He searched around him, his eyes scanning the ground for anything easily transfigurable. When that failed, and all he could see were rocks, a distant memory floated in front of his eyes, as though he were watching his past being replayed on a TV screen. A younger Harry, only fourteen, feeling torn from losing three of his best friends. His younger self was pounding the rocks as hard as he could, with tears streaming down his face all the while. Harry could remember that. It had helped, attacking the rocks like that. The pain was just as good as if he had cut himself, and he had been able to vent out his anger without taking it out on anyone else. Because, really, it wasn't fair to take his anger out on others, was it? It was much simpler to take it out on himself.

Simpler. He was thinking of that word a lot, today. What he wouldn't give for a nice, simple life, with no abusive relatives, and no crazy Dark Lord after his blood.

Finally, at long last, Harry's eyes fell on a nearby twig. Obviously the rocks weren't close enough to the forest for there to be lots lying around. Pulling out his wand, Harry eagerly grabbed the stick and transfigured it into something sharp.

At long last, he was doing it. He was freeing himself of all his built-up emotion. He was going to feel normal.

.

After dinner that night, Harry followed his friends up to Gryffindor tower. He felt much better now, and found that when he laughed at a joke Ron had just told them, he was actually laughing, not just pretending to. He was opting to stay away from his guardians if possible, though, as he didn't want to run the risk of them finding out what he had done and making him talk – or, quite simply, making him talk and ruining his now much brighter mood.

Harry's optimistic mood stayed with him all through his training with Severus that night, too… although, it only seemed to make his Uncle more worried about him. At the end of their training, Severus locked the door with a flick of his wand and, Harry having not expected it and therefore not been ready to defend himself, summoned Harry's wand to himself to prevent Harry from unlocking the door.

"Why are you doing this?" Harry asked angrily, turning to face his Uncle. "I'm happy. Why can't you just leave it at that?"

"Because, Harry," Severus said slowly, his tone much more calm than Harry's, "As much as I enjoy seeing you happy, I don't understand how you possibly can be after your behaviour last night."

Harry hesitated for only a short moment before snapping, "Ron and Hermione cheered me up."

"And yet, for the better part of the day, the two have been in the library working on a project. They must be truly special if they are able to make you forget all your problems in such a short space of time."

Harry scowled at Severus, vaguely aware of the sharp sting in his arms. Some of the cuts felt like they had re-opened during their training, but Harry didn't dare to so much as glance at his arms. Instead, he stared defiantly at Snape.

"What do you think happened, then?"

Almost as soon as he had said it, Harry regretted the question. Harry wasn't the first self-harming child Snape had dealt with, and so Harry was perfectly aware of how much his Uncle understood the problem – including how easy it was to suddenly succumb to old temptations without warning; to have a relapse. Aware that his facial features were starting to slip into a worried expression, Harry quickly schooled them into looking irritated, as though all he felt were annoyance at his Uncle's meddling.

This, of course did not fool Snape. Not in the least.

"Harry, show me your arms."

Breathing an inaudible sigh of relief that he had had enough sense to cast a glamour charm over his wounds, Harry rolled up his sleeves and showed Snape his smooth, cut-free arms.

Again, this did not fool Snape. Before Harry even noticed the wand moving, the glamour was melting away from his arms to show fresh wounds – and, he noticed, some of them had indeed opened during training.

Almost instantly, Harry's anger transformed into panic, and he pulled his arms out of his Uncle's grasp, stumbling backwards out of arms reach. How had he been caught out so quickly? For years, before, he had managed to keep his secret hidden, and now he was found out only hours after giving in… then again, they hadn't known to watch for the symptoms before, had they? Now that his guardians and friends knew that there was a possibility he would hurt himself, they knew to keep an eye out for it…

"Stay away from me!" Harry hissed. Snape, who had just stepped forward, paused. "Why couldn't you let me be?" Harry repeated his earlier question. "I don't want to talk. I just want to feel better! Why won't you let me feel better?"

Snape had an unreadable look in his eyes now, and Harry wished he was better at reading his Uncle. He wanted to know how Snape really felt, behind that carefully blank mask he kept on his face.

"I thought talking did not bother you, now?"

Harry shrugged. Yes, talking didn't bother him as much now… but talking about the Dursleys did. Anything else, fine… but not the Dursleys. He could barely stand to think about them, let alone talk about them.

"Let me out," Harry pleaded, his voice cracking on the last word.

"Harry, you must know that I can not let you leave this room until we sort this out."

"What do you want me to say, then?" Harry shot back harshly. He surprised even himself with the violent change of attitude. "That I won't do it again? That I'm sorry I won't talk? What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to tell me that you will talk to someone. If not me, then your guardians."

"What about my friends?" Harry asked irritably.

"They are not adults. They do not have sufficient enough life experience to help you."

"Don't do this to me, Sev," Harry muttered as his anger left him, leaving him feeling only weary. "You want me to stop? Fine. But don't make me talk about them."

"Why?"

"Why?" Harry repeated, giving a humourless snort. "Because I can't. All I can say, I've already told you. That's why I thought the Occlumency would be good, at first. You would understand, without me having to talk… and now look. Didn't quite work out as I wanted, did it?"

"Whilst the Occlumency lessons, for the time being, are indeed useful for explaining your childhood, if they are causing reactions like this in you then you have to talk. How else do you propose to move on?"

"I deal with it in my own way, then I force the memories back down and move on," Harry spat at him, losing what little hold he had of his temper. "That's how I always managed before."

"It isn't healthy, Harry," Snape continued to press. "Talking to people helps you understand your emotions a lot better, and helps you to move on. What you're doing isn't moving on. All you're doing is pushing the memories away, even though you're bound to know what eventually they'll all spring back up and bombard you with their ruthlessness."

Suddenly far too tired to remain standing, Harry shuffled backwards until he was leaning against the wall, and slid down to sit on the floor. His gaze dropped to the floor with him, and as he stared at it he tried to force his brain into thinking reasonably. For all his defiance, Harry did know that it would do him no good to fall back into old habits. He had felt much lighter and care-free the previous year, after he had gotten over his initial anger at one of his most guarded secrets being found out. Snape – Severus – was right. It was unhealthy, his way of coping.

But what was he supposed to do?

He felt comfortable enough with his guardians, felt loved enough, that he felt he could be honest. If he had a problem, he trusted that he could talk to them and that they would help him sort everything out. The subject of the Dursleys, however, was a sensitive one; one that Harry had always shied away from. He had explained the barest details when he had originally moved in with Sirius and Remus, back at the start of fourth year, and the subject had rarely been brought up since. Even when it was, Harry would mumble only small replies and change the subject as soon as possible.

_You know he's right_, a voice whispered at the back of Harry's mind. Obviously, Severus' persistence was getting through to him. _You need to stop this before you get in too deep._

And yet… _I felt fine, until he tried to get me to talk._

_And how long would you have felt fine for? What if you kept at it, and Sirius and Remus didn't find out for months? Wouldn't they be disappointed?_

And suddenly, Harry knew with blinding clarity what he had to do. He didn't ever want to do anything that could possibly make his guardians disappointed in him. They had done so much for him; he couldn't bear to ever, ever let them down. He had promised them before that he would talk to them, if he'd ever felt the urge to cut again. He had promised them, and now he had broken that promise.

And that wasn't right.

It was amazing, really, how close Harry felt to Sirius and Remus. He knew they must have been around when he was a baby but, since he couldn't remember that, he had really only known them for a year – or, impersonally with Remus, two years. It confused Harry sometimes, when he thought about it, and sometimes he had his doubts. To have come to trust two people so much in such a short space of time was just asking for trouble… but now, he felt glad; because of his trust and loyalty, he was able to overcome his emotions… for them.

An overwhelming rush of gratitude left Harry momentarily paralyzed, and as soon as it was gone, Harry slowly stood.

"You can let me go now," Harry told Severus. "You're right. I'll talk to them."

* * *

Well, here's chapter 9. Actually, I had it finished ages ago, but didn't post it up since I never got around to starting chapter 10 – which, by the way, I'm started tonight. I feel like I've helped Harry resolve a lot of his issues now… and I think he needed a little push in the right direction to help him realize how much Sirius and Remus have come to mean to him.

I'm sorry for the depressing-ness. I felt it was needed for the above reason (of helping Harry resolve some issues..). That said, I do want to ask how much you like/dislike depressing chapters. I won't go into details, but my mood has been less-than-good for the past few weeks, and it's bad enough trying to act happy all the time as well as writing happy stuff. If you hate the depressing stuff, though, I'll try my best to keep chapters light-hearted and happy. It's up to you, so please let me know.

A quick question: since I'm re-writing the fourth year fic (because, as I'm sure you'll all agree, there's a significant difference in the writing quality of that story and this one), are there any changes you want made to it? I already have a huge list of changes to make, but I'm completely open to suggestions.

I don't know how fast/slow updates will be. I think I'm more likely to write at the moment because of my moods, but at the same time, I'm, back at school and this is my most important year yet so that will take away a lot of the time I had to write, compared to last year. I'll try, though, for you. I know it doesn't seem like it, but I do feel really bad for keeping everybody waiting for so long!

Lastly… please don't be too critical of this chapter. I got horrid writers block right after the 'xoxo' mark. Well, not writers block – I knew what I wanted to write, but I just couldn't seem to get it out right. Hopefully it's not too bad though…

Okay, I'll stop talking now before I make this silly authors note the same length as the chapter!


	10. Important?

**HP Year 5: Let the War Begin  
**_Authors note/question_

Right guys. I'm absolutely, completely, 100% sorry for the lack of updating. Now, however, I have a question for you:

Would you rather I continue trying to finish this, the way everything is? Or, if I went back, and re-wrote the fourth year so I'm not disappointed with it anymore, and can get my motivation back (because really, that's what's getting to me - there are things I want to do that I can't do unless I rewrite fourth year, and it's BUGGING me like crazy), would you read the fourth year again? It would be similar in plot, yes, but hopefully it would be of a higher quality and of course there are things I need to change.

What do you say...? Should I carry on with this, or would you be happy going back and re-reading his fourth year with some changes? I definitely think, if I did that, then that would be the answer to all my lack-of-motivation problems.

Let me know asap guys please :)

& thanks for sticking with me through all this!  
xxxxx


	11. Snape

**HP Year 5: When Worlds Collide**_  
Chapter 10_

Even with Harry's new-found determination to be as open with Sirius and Remus as was possible, the discussion they had had when he arrived back had by no means been an easy one – nor had it been short. The last reading Harry could remember seeing on the clock was one-thirty in the morning, and he had fallen asleep on the couch soon after from both the physical exhaustion of training and the mental exhaustion of doing so much _talking_.

.

However, when bright light started to filter through his windows at barely seven o'clock next morning, Harry woke up unusually easy and with a far brighter mood than he'd had in a long time. He'd explained his years at the Dursleys in decidedly more detail than ever before, and though his guardians reactions had unnerved him quite a bit, he didn't regret it. Hoping that his good mood lasted and wasn't just a fluke, Harry wasted no time in dressing and heading to the Great Hall for breakfast, where he found all his friends already sitting. A quick glance at the staff table told him that Sirius was there, but Remus was nowhere in sight.

.

"Hey, guys," Harry greeted his friends as he took the seat they'd saved for him and grabbed himself some buttered toast.

"You look… happy," Ginny smiled tentatively.

"I feel it," Harry smiled at her. "I had one hell of a _long_ talk last night. I think it's really helped. I haven't felt like this in a long time."

"That's great, Harry!" Hermione immediately congratulated him, looking happy for him.

.

The week passed slowly – or, at least, it did until Harry's next Potions lesson. All the way through the lesson, Severeus made snide remarks to him and at the end of the lesson, despite Harry's potion almost completely matching the description in the book, Snape merely sneered at it.

"On you go," Harry told his friends after everyone had left. They nodded, casting quick worried glances at the Potions professor before leaving.

"Yes?" Snape asked disdainfully as Harry approached his desk.

"Err – is everything alright?" Harry asked cautiously.

"And why would that matter to you, Potter?" Snape asked nastily. Harry stepped back from the desk at the harsh tones in his Uncle's voice.

"Because…" Harry trailed off when the Professor glared at him. "Did I do something?" he asked, changing tactics.

"Besides being your usual insufferable self?"

"I…"

"You're wasting my time, Potter," Snape told him acidly. "Unless you have something meaningful to say, kindly leave. I have no patience for your antics today."

"Right," Harry said slowly, trying to hide the hurt he felt. Glancing at Snape one last time, Harry turned around and left.

.

"What did he say?" Ron asked when Harry finally reached the Great Hall and joined his friends at the table.

"That he didn't have time for my antics, and unless I had something meaningful to say, I was to leave."

"He said that to you?" Ron asked, sounding shocked. "But…"

"It's like being back in first year," Harry grimaced. "I don't know why he's doing it. I don't know what I did…"

"I'm sure you didn't do anything," Hermione tried to reason with him. "You haven't even been able to talk to him before today, so it _can't_ be anything you've done. Maybe he's had a bad day?"

"Hermione, in the two years that we've been close, a bad day has _never_ made him act like that with me."

"Maybe you should tell Sirius or Remus," Ron suggested.

"No…" Harry shook his head. "I'll leave it for now, and see how it goes."

.

However, by the time Saturday – and Harry's next Occlumency lesson – rolled by, Snape's attitude towards Harry hadn't changed. The Potions Master was still treating Harry with the same loathing he had in Harry's first year; something that made Harry _extremely_ nervous. The lesson and the memories it would bring up would be bad in itself, never mind adding Snape's new attitude on top of it…

_ But you need to learn_, said the voice that was always lurking in the back of Harry's mind. _Dealing with your Uncle's attitude isn't as bad as dealing with the visions Voldemort likes to send you_.

And so, at eight o'clock, Harry found himself in Snape's room once more.

"Finally," Snape sneered when Harry entered the room. "I trust you have practiced?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said quietly.

"Good. Now let's see if you can produce a better shield than last week's abysmal attempts."

Harry clenched his teeth at this. If his attempts had been poor, why hadn't Snape said something at the time?

"Are you ready?" Snape's hateful voice cut through Harry's angry thoughts. Before Harry had time to answer, let alone concentrate on bringing about his mental shields, Snape had entered his mind.

_ He was seven, and running from Aunt Marge's dogs that were chasing him furiously, obviously desperate to sink their teeth into his legs._

_He was ten, and stuck up a tree, hiding from Dudley and his gang._

_He was eleven, and his Uncle was beating him for trying to read his Hogwarts letter._

"Terrible, as usual, Potter," Snape snapped when Harry once again became aware of his surroundings. "Not that I expected any better."

"You didn't even give me a chance to bring up a shield," Harry snapped back.

"And you think the Dark Lord will simply wait when he wants to read your mind? That he'll stand and twiddle his thumbs, and give you time to bring up a shield?" Snape hissed.

"No, but you're not Voldemort. And you're supposed to be teaching me. Of course I can't do a good shield yet!"

"Do not say the Dark Lord's name!" Snape shouted, anger the only tone Harry could hear in his voice. "And do not give me your usual cheek, either," Snape spat. "You're lucky I'm wasting my time to help you at all."

Harry didn't say anything in return. This wasn't like Snape, not at all. Where had all the hate come from?

"You have ten seconds to bring up your shield," Snape finally snapped at him. Harry glanced at him, before closing his eyes and concentrating as hard as he could. Despite his best efforts however, he had barely managed to come up with anything before he felt Snape forcing his mind into his own, and mere seconds later Harry was drowning in more memories.

_He was eight, and he hadn't finished his chores. His Uncle had grabbed him by the hair and pulled him into the kitchen, his face murderous._

_"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Harry repeated over and over again, but it did nothing to quell his Uncle's anger, nor did it do anything to soften the blows that came to him._

_He was fourteen, lying in a helpless huddle on his bedroom floor as his Uncle let all his anger out on him._

_ "This is for Marge," he had spat. "For daring to use any of your funny stuff around here!"_

"Up, Potter!" Snape barked. Harry flinched back from the voice. It sounded so familiar to his Uncle's…

"I said, _up_!" Snape barked once more, grabbing Harry's arms roughly and pulling him up. Harry ripped his arms out of the painful grip and stumbled back from Snape, who had an unreadable look in his eyes.

"What was that?" Snape asked after a long stretch of silence. Harry stared at him disbelievingly.

"What do you mean, _what was that_?" Harry shot back. "You know what it was," he finished in a much quieter voice.

"Your Uncle... he abused you?"

"What's _wrong_ with you, Sev?" Harry cried out, losing control of his temper. "First you treat me like you don't care at all, and then you pretend not to know about the memories? Is this a game? Is it revenge? What did I do?"

"What are you babbling about, Potter?" Snape asked coolly. "I _don't_ care, you're a Gryffindor and as insolent as your father was. And I'm not _pretending_ anything," he snapped. "And how dare you disrespect me so much as to call me 'Sev'!" He looked like he might go on to say more, but Harry had had enough.

"Fine," Harry snapped. He was hurt, and he was angry. "If you don't care, _fine_," he continued, his voice rising. "Well, guess what? Neither do I!"

And with that, he stormed from the room.

.

Not caring that he was supposed to go directly to Sirius and Remus after his Occlumency lesson, Harry made his way outside. He just couldn't figure out what he had done! Why did Snape suddenly hate him so passionately again? Ever since Snape had agreed to train him in second year, he had managed to get over his biased view of the Potter blood – and, eventually, even of Gryffindors, even if he had still been a _tad_ biased against them. Harry didn't stop when he reached the lake, didn't want to stop at all, preferring to carry on pacing angrily around the grounds. He held onto the anger, finding it easier to deal with than the hurt. He had pissed Snape off before, but he had never reacted like this… he had never reverted back to hating Harry, to making snide comments… and Harry didn't even know what he had done this time, so felt powerless to fix it.

.

Harry had no idea how long he had been wandering aimlessly about when he spotted a large black dog bounding towards him. Sighing, he stopped and waited for Sirius to catch up, and the dog transformed instantly into the familiar form of his godfather.

"What's up, kiddo?" Sirius asked as soon as he had transformed back to human form. Harry shrugged. "Come on, Harry," Sirius asked quietly. "What happened?"

"Snape's bloody attitude happened!"

"His… what?" Sirius blinked.

"Snape! All week, acting like he can't stand the sight of me. And then the lesson!" Harry told Sirius bitterly.

"What do you mean, Harry?" Sirius asked slowly. "What's he been doing?"

"Snide comments here and there," Harry shrugged, looking away from Sirius. "Treating me like devil spawn. Pretending not to know anything about my Uncle, when the memories came…" Harry's voice wavered. "I don't know what he's doing… it's like being in first year again, only worse, since now it feels wrong, him acting this way."

"Why didn't you say something sooner?"

"I guess I hoped he was just in a bad mood or something," Harry murmured. "That he would… I dunno, snap out of it…"

"You should have said something, Harry," Sirius shook his head. "I thought you were being more open with us now?"

"I am!" Harry defended himself. "But, it was Snape's problem, not mine. It was different."

"It was still affecting and hurting _you_, Harry," Sirius countered. "Nobody who claims to care about someone would treat them that way. Snape's actions are inexcusable."

"But…"

"No, no excuses, Harry. I'll talk to him – or get Moony to, I guess, since I don't quite trust my own temper around him." Sirius smiled sheepishly. "How did the lesson go, if he's been acting like a twat?"

"Not very well," Harry admitted. "I don't think I really got anything done yet. He kept jumping into my head before I had a chance to pull up any sort of shield. And it felt… rougher," Harry winced. "Like he wasn't holding back. Like… he didn't care if he hurt me, I guess."

"Bastard," Sirius growled. Harry stepped back nervously.

"How late is it?" he asked, trying to distract his godfather from his anger.

"Nearly eleven when I left," Sirius told him, running a hand through his hair. "That's why I came to get you. We figured something must've happened if it was keeping you out here for so long."

"Sorry," Harry mumbled.

"No need to apologise," Sirius brushed him off. "The only one who should be saying sorry round here is Snape."

**xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox**

When Sirius finally coaxed Harry back inside and led him to the Marauders Quarters, Harry went straight to bed, leaving it to Sirius to explain everything to Remus. He felt so tired, and his head hurt – whether from all the emotion or from the rough Occlumency lesson he wasn't sure. He found Sally sitting on his bed, waiting for him, and he let her curl round his wrist with a small smile. He hadn't seen her around much lately – he'd been too caught up in other stuff, he supposed. Making sure his little snake was comfortable, Harry climbed into bed, but it was very hard for him to fall asleep. His Uncle's words kept running through his head.

_ "I don't care,"_ he had said.

_"Did I do something?"_

_ "Besides being your usual insufferable self?"_

Confusion, hurt and anger all welled up in Harry, swirling together, overpowering him.

_ "I don't care…"_

"Neither do I," Harry whispered, repeating his earlier words. He knew they were a lie, of course. He _did_ care. Too much. And that was why it hurt… because Snape was supposed to care, too! Their relationship may have started out rocky in Harry's second year – after all, Snape hadn't _wanted_ to train him. Not at first. He'd only agreed because Dumbledore pressured him to – and, of course, because Harry had risked his own neck to help save Malfoy after he'd fallen in the lake and got himself attacked by Grindylows (not that Harry had know what Grindylows were at the time; to him they'd merely been a scary monster that was hurting Draco) which had made Snape feel somewhat indebted to Harry. However, after a few months of being forced with Harry every Friday night, Snape had started to realise that maybe Harry wasn't quite as much of an insufferable brat as his father had been – in Snape's eyes, anyway. Harry still didn't believe his father had been an insufferable brat, no matter how many times Snape said otherwise. Despite their rocky start, their relationship _was_ a strong one now.

Or, at least, it was supposed to be.

.

Groaning to himself, Harry climbed out of bed and padded out of his bedroom. There was no way he was going to get to sleep anytime soon.

"What's wrong, cub?" a voice asked, and Harry jumped. He hadn't realised anyone else was still awake.

"Can't sleep," he admitted lamely. Shivering, as the temperature was cooler in here than it had been in his bedroom, Harry walked slowly over to sit beside Moony. "What are you up so late for?"

"Couldn't sleep either," Remus smiled at him. "I figured reading was at least more educational than staring at my ceiling." Then his face took on a more serious look. "You should have told us about Severus, you know," he reprimanded lightly.

"I know," Harry sighed. "I would have eventually, if it had carried on, I think."

"You don't have any idea why he's acting like this?" Remus asked softly.

"No," Harry shook his head. "All I can think of is that I made him angry somehow, but I really can't figure out what I did."

"Even if you upset him, I doubt it would force him to revert back to his earlier treatment of you," Remus shook his head. "No, something else has happened…" he trailed off. "No point thinking about it, I suppose," he said finally, gazing at Harry.

"Easier said than done," Harry told him, giving a sloppy smile.

"Don't worry about it, cub," Moony told Harry in his usual gentle voice. "I fully plan on having a nice, big chat with him tomorrow. It'll be okay. We'll sort this out."

"I hope so…"

.

At some point during the night, Remus and Harry had fallen asleep, and it was a disgusting, wet feeling that woke Harry up again next day.

"Eww, Sirius!" Harry protested, pushing the dog away. The dog barked at him as he wiped the slobber off his face. Beside him, Remus was also wiping at his face, scowling at the big black dog.

"That's what you get for staying up all night without me," Sirius told them brightly as he transformed back into a human.

"I'll remember this, Padfoot," Remus warned.

"Like you could ever do anything to me," Sirius said smugly.

"Just you wait," Remus promised.

.

"Our first Quidditch match is soon," Ron said brightly when Harry joined his friends at lunch.

"Who's playing?" Harry asked, having not seen the schedule yet.

"Us and Slytherin," Ron rolled his eyes.

"Should be fun," Harry smirked, looking forward to playing against Malfoy. After everything the blonde boy had done to him over the past two years, he was eager for some payback.

"How was your lesson last night?" Hermione asked, cutting over their Quidditch conversation. "I mean, the Professor. Was he…?"

"He was still a git," Harry told her, his voice instantly losing any cheerfulness it had held. He glanced up at the staff table and realised, with a start, that the Potions Professor was staring at him. The look on Snape's face was unreadable, but given his latest feelings towards Harry, he guessed it couldn't be anything good. "Moony's planning on talking to him though, I think," Harry continued, dropping his gaze. He could barely stand to look at Snape at the moment.

"Well, that's good," Hermione said quietly. "And better than Sirius talking to him…"

"Yeah," Harry nodded.

.

After lunch, Harry and Ron headed down to the Quidditch pitch where Angelina was waiting on them impatiently.

"About time!" she snapped when the finally appeared. "Hurry up and get ready."

"Well, someone's in a good mood," Ron grumbled as soon as Angelina was out of earshot. Harry chuckled.

"Better be quick," he advised, leading Ron to the changing rooms. "She seems to have picked up on Wood's enthusiasm, now that she's become captain."

"Is that good or bad?" Ron asked nervously.

"Both," Harry said after a moment. "It's the enthusiasm to make us work hard that makes us good enough to win… but, it'll piss people off."

.

When Harry finally mounted his broom and soared up into the sky, he couldn't help letting out a giddy laugh of relief. As ever, flying seemed to be the one thing – well, healthy thing – that could melt all his worries and anxieties away. He tried not to think about the last few times he had been here; with Cedric and Viktor, teaching Fleur to fly, and when he had been on the ground, the whole pitch covered in the giant maze that had ended up causing so much pain… No. He wanted to enjoy his time in the air. And then, with a start, Harry realised that the memories of flying with Viktor were the first thoughts he'd had about the Bulgarian Seeker in awhile. He'd been so busy with everything else that he'd _forgotten_ to think about Viktor as much… and with that revelation came a sharp, stabbing feeling of guilt.

"You're supposed to be finding the snitch, Potter!" Angelina yelled at him, pulling Harry from his thoughts. Sighing, he forced himself to move around the pitch. This was Quidditch. He was _not_ allowed to be unhappy during anything Quidditch-related. Forcing all thoughts other than the snitch out of his head, Harry sped up his broom, relaxing into the familiar game.

.

When Angelina finally let the team off for the day, Harry was exhausted, but happy.

"You're doing great," he told Ron as they left the changing rooms to head back to the castle. "Slytherin's gonna have their work cut out for them when they play us."

"I've still got a long way to go yet," Ron mumbled, the tips of his ears turning pink. Harry held back a small laugh at his friends shyness at accepting compliments.

"I'm glad Quidditch is back this year," Harry said happily.

"Yeah," Ron agreed.

.

After dinner, Harry went to the library on his own to get some of his homework completed. He'd been falling behind recently, too caught up with everything that was happening, and he wasn't happy about that. Even last year, with all the stress and time the tournament had demanded, Harry hadn't fallen behind on his homework. So why should he this year? Even if it _was_ the dreaded OWL-level year…

_"Just you two wait," Cedric said. " The NEWT level classes are the worst things ever. They're unbelievably hard."_

_"Harder than OWLs?" Cho asked nervously._

_"Hell yeah," Cedric nodded._

_"Bugger," was all Cho could say. Harry looked at them feeling slightly amused._

_"Wow," Harry said lightly. "Now I'm really dreading next year."_

Not that the year had been dreadfully difficult so far – schoolwork wise – but still. Cho was a perfectly able witch, an a Ravenclaw no less, so if she had thought the OWLs were hard…

Shaking his head to clear away the memory, Harry returned to writing his essays. The Transfiguration one didn't take long, and neither did the Divination one since all he really had to do was make stuff up. When he got to the Potions essay, however, Harry's brain abruptly stopped working. After spending a frustrating twenty minutes trying to figure out something to write, Harry gave it up as a bad job and left to find his friends.

.

"Where've you been?" Ron asked when Harry slumped into the chair beside him in the Gryffindor Common Room.  
"Library, finishing homework," Harry said tiredly. "I've been falling behind, so…"  
"You should've said, mate," Ron clapped him on the back. "You could've copied mine."  
"Too late now," Harry shrugged.  
"There you are!" Hermione suddenly called to him, appearing out of nowhere.  
"Hi, 'Mione," Harry said uncertainly.  
"I've been looking all over for you," she huffed. "Sirius and Remus want you."  
"They do?"  
"Yes," she said impatiently, pulling him up off his seat. "_Go_," she told him. "They've figured out what's up with Snape."

.

Although the walk to the Marauders Quarters didn't usually take long, Harry's hesitant pace made the journey last a lot longer than usual, and also gave him time to build up a whole bunch of hysterical theories. He sighed a little regretfully when he finally did reach the door, not at all convinced he was ready to hear why Snape had been treating him so… well, he couldn't even think of a word, now. Taking a calming breath, Harry opened the door and stepped into the room, where his two guardians, Snape and Dumbledore were all waiting. Snape, he noticed, was giving him the _oddest _look, but at least this time it wasn't filled with hatred.

"Good, you're here," Dumbledore smiled at him, his kind blue eyes twinkling. Harry nodded meekly. "Well," Dumbledore continued on, glancing at Snape before looking back at Harry. "It seems we have a bit of a problem on our hands."

* * *

I'm sorry, sorry, sorry. I don't even have a real good excuse, except that I got caught up in schoolwork and personal drama, but somehow that still seems pretty lame. _However_, it's Summer now. Meaning, no more extremely-annoying school to take up my time. Meaning no more extreme tiredness to curb my imagination and writing time. Which, hopefully, means more Harry potter chapters! Oh, I'm not making promises - I've learned the hard way that things can crop up at any moment that prevent me from writing. But I will try. Because it's summer! So I have unlimited free time to offer to my writing.

Anyway, as I said, no promises about regular updates. Only promise I'm making is that one way or another I'll finish this fic. I just don't know how long that'll take...

Also, bear with me - it seems that in my long months of not writing, I've managed to lose all my notes. I can't remember Harry's timetable now, or many of the main plot ideas, BUT, they're slowly coming back to me. I'll carry on hunting for all my notes, and if I can't find them, I suppose I'll just have to start from scratch. The main plot idea, thankfully, is still in my head and should be _very_ fun to write. So, fingers crossed? x)

Review, please, if you enjoy the chapter. Not that I deserve nice reviews, I'll admit, after leaving you all hanging for so long, but it _would_ make me happy ;o)

One last note - if stories like this are what you like (i.e. Sirius/Harry bonding stories), check out the C2 I'm a staff member of, _Godfatherly Comfort_. I've been adding some new stories to it, and when you add all the stories that were already there, you've got a lovely big collection of Sirius/Harry bonding stories of all genres!


	12. Memories

**HP Year 5: When Worlds Collide**_  
Chapter 11_

"A problem?" Harry echoed. Obviously, he knew something was wrong, but from the way Dumbledore was looking at him he got the feeling the Headmaster knew some of the specifics that Harry didn't.

"Take a seat, Harry," Dumbledore advised him, still with that gentle smile of his. Glancing at Snape, who was still wearing that odd expression, Harry took the empty seat beside Remus.

"What's going on?" Harry asked after a moment of silence.

"It seems," Dumbledore said mildly, "that whilst attempting to complete a task for Voldemort, Professor Snape has managed to lose his memory. He cannot remember anything beyond your first year."

"But…" Harry's brows furrowed. "He must remember some stuff. He knew he had to teach me Occlumency, for once," Harry checked it off on his fingers. "And he wasn't surprised that everyone who was a first year is suddenly a fifth year…"

"Indeed, it is a rather confusing matter," Dumbledore agreed. "What I think has happened is that Professor Snape's mind has created false memories to fill the gaps. They lack in detail, but are enough to paint a clear picture of the past four years."

"Is it… can it be fixed, sir?" Harry asked.

"I think so, yes," Dumbledore nodded. "But I'll need your help."

"Mine?" Harry repeated, confused. "But, sir, what can I do?"

"You underestimate yourself, Harry," Dumbledore told him, eyes twinkling. "To fix what has gone wrong, we need to enter Professor Snape's mind and correct it ourselves. However, I cannot do it alone, and there are very few people his mind trusts. You are one of those people; anybody else would be forced back out of his mind before they could do anything remotely helpful."

Harry nodded, slowly. He still wasn't sure what Dumbledore expected him to do, but he would do whatever he could to help.

"Come here, Harry," Dumbledore gestured him over. "I am going to cast a spell that will allow to me to essentially piggyback your conscience into Professor Snape's mind. Once there, we need to find his _real_ memories and break them free of the barriers holding them back. I'm hoping that if we can break free enough of his real memories, the rest will automatically be freed as they will conflict too much with the fake ones. Are you ready, Harry?"

"Yes, sir," Harry nodded. He sat perfectly still as Dumbledore cast an awkward-looking spell and it was only mere seconds later he felt himself being pulled along to somewhere he did not belong.

.

When Harry opened his eyes (not aware that he'd ever closed them) he found himself standing next to his Headmaster in a very dark place. All he could see for miles around him were dirt plains and a dark, cloudy sky. Is this what his mind looked like when Snape did his Legilimency on him?

"Now, concentrate, Harry," Dumbledore instructed. Harry turned to face him. "You need to focus very strongly on any memories you have with Professor Snape from the last four years. Doing so will pull you towards them. They are likely, I think, to be surrounded by a physical barrier of some sort, which you will have to break by sheer force. You still have your wand," he pointed to the wooden stick in Harry's pocket. "Do not be afraid to be brutal. Attacking the barriers will not hurt Professor Snape."

"Yes, sir," Harry nodded nervously, showing he understood.

"When you are done, think of this place," Dumbledore continued. "This field. When I am done I, too, will come back here and lead you out. Good luck, Harry."

And with that, Dumbledore faded away, leaving Harry standing on his own.

"Focus, Harry," Harry mumbled to himself. Feeling silly, he closed his eyes, and thought of the time he had saved Malfoy from the Grindylows. That had been the start of his relationship with Snape, really; without that incident, he didn't think Snape would ever have agreed to train him. An odd sensation filled Harry, and when he opened his eyes again, he found himself surrounded by bubbles. A closer look told him that the bubbles held memories; mini movies and pictures were reflecting from inside them. Some he recognised, and some he didn't, but none looked to be surrounded by a barrier. Harry strolled slowly around the bubbles, glancing in at them as he passed. None of them held any real interest to him. Where were the memories he needed? Deciding that perhaps he hadn't focused strongly enough, Harry stopped and closed his eyes, filling his mind with thoughts of that day.

_It was cold, and Harry shivered, wishing he'd thought to bring his jacket before heading out of the castle. He was going to visit Hagrid, who he hadn't talked to in awhile. He wasn't paying much attention to where he was going, too busy thinking about his annoying new Defence teacher and the creepy voice that only he seemed to be able to hear - but when he heard a yell of pain, his head snapped up. It came again, from the lake, and before he knew what he was doing, Harry was running towards it._

_ "Malfoy?" Harry asked incredulously as he found the blonde boy struggling in the lake._

_ "Help me," Malfoy moaned. He didn't both making any snide remarks to Harry, and it only took Harry a moment to realise why. Something was attacking Malfoy. Before he had a chance to talk himself out of it, Harry jumped into the lake, completely forgetting about his inability to swim. Instinct kicked in. He cast a quick _'Winguardium Leviosa!'_ on himself to prevent himself from sinking, and then threw himself at the creepy little creatures that had a hold of Malfoy's legs._

_ "Let go!" Harry tried to yell, but all that came out his mouth were a furious stream of bubbles, since he had had to duck underwater to see what was attacking the Slytherin. A gasp of pain escaped his lips when one of the creatures latched themselves onto Harry's leg, cutting into the skin. Not knowing what else to do, Harry poked it with his wand, hard. Red sparks shot out of the end of his wand, and the creature let go instantly. Turning his attention back to Malfoy, who was kicking furiously now in an attempt to get the creatures off him, Harry prodded at the rest of the creatures, grateful that red sparks continued to shoot out and scare them away. Finally, they were free, and Harry wasted no time in pulling Malfoy towards the land._

Opening his eyes, Harry let out a sigh of relief when he found a bubble that had chains wrapped around it. _The memory of that day_. Harry hesitated for only a moment before lifting his wand and making a slashing movement at the chains. The cutting hex worked; the chains slipped away, falling to the floor with a _clunk_ and fading away.

Suddenly, a thought came to Harry. _Severus knew my parents!_ Without even meaning to, Harry's head filled with thoughts about his parents, and what Snape might know about them, and what he might know about that night, due to him being a Death Eater, and as suddenly as the thought came, Harry was surrounded by different bubbles. One in particular caught his eye, and unable to resist, he let the memory pull him in.

_ Severus was young, barely in his early twenties, fresh out of Hogwarts and already under the Dark Lord's command. Eager to prove his worth to his master, he had instantly seized his chance when he saw Albus Dumbledore entering into a small pub._

_ Up the stairs he had gone, following Dumbledore as inconspicuously as possible. Surprise flitted across his face when he realised the Headmaster of Hogwarts was meeting with a Seer, but he didn't let it deter him and merely crept up to the door, putting his excellent eavesdropping skills to work. When the woman in the room started speaking of a prophecy, Severus couldn't believe his ears._

_ "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies - "_

_ And then, without warning, the door was open and Severus found himself staring into the blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore. Wasting no time on the old fool, Severus fled. His master would want to hear this._

Harry felt himself pulled out of the bubble as the short memory ended, and although guilt instantly engulfed him, so too did curiosity. Was that prophecy about him? Glancing round at the surrounding bubbles, common sense took a hold, and Harry instantly forced the memory of his mind, for now, so that he could help free his Uncle's trapped memories.

Harry worked as quickly as he could, focusing on memories of training sessions he had had with Sev, remembering how every week that he went to the Potions master, there were less and less snide remarks. Training memories done, Harry allowed himself a quick break as he tried to figure out what other memories to find and free, before continuing on.

By the time Harry felt he had got all the required memories free, he felt exhausted. He wasn't sure why; it wasn't like he was here physically, so why should it tire him? Deciding to ask that after he got out of his Uncle's head – it was really kind of creepy, to think he was inside someone's head, even if he ought to have been used to the idea now after being in Voldemort's so often – Harry closed his eyes and focused on being back in the field, where he found Dumbledore waiting on him.

"Finished, Harry?" Dumbledore asked with a kind smile.

"I think so, sir," Harry told his Headmaster, licking his lips nervously. "What happens if I didn't get them all?"

"As long as you freed the majority, I believe his mind will automatically free the rest after we leave."

"And if I didn't get the majority…?"

"Then we will simply have to come back at a later date and try again. I doubt a second try will be required, however. Are you ready to leave?"

"Yes, sir," Harry nodded after a brief pause.

"Then hold on tight, Harry," Dumbledore instructed, holding out his arm. Harry took a grip of his professor's arm as instructed, then waited while the Headmaster concentrated very hard on something. Then, everything went black.

.

When Harry woke up, he found himself lying in his bed in the Marauder Quarters. Not wanting to waste any time bothering to change out of his pyjamas into robes, he hurried out his room and was grateful to find both Sirius and Remus sitting together, talking quietly about something.

"Did it work?" he asked when his guardians noticed him.

"He can't remember anything that happened since the accident," Remus answered. "But apart from that, all his memories are back in place, that we know of."

"Good," Harry said, sighing in relief.

"You alright?" Sirius asked. "You gave us quite a fright when you collapsed like that."

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry assured him.

"Sure?" Sirius pushed on suspiciously, all too aware of the fact that Harry tended to lie about how he felt.

"I'm _fine_, Sirius," Harry repeated. "I was just tired, I think."

"Alright then, Harry," Remus smiled at him, not giving Sirius the chance to become overprotective again. "I think Ron and Hermione were looking for you."

"Great, I'll go find them then," Harry said brightly, happy to escape from Sirius. He went back to his bedroom and quickly changed before grabbing the Marauders Map, and then left to find his two friends.

.

A quick glance at the map as Harry left showed him that Hermione, Ron and Ginny were all sitting outside, near the lake. He took his time walking there, feeling relaxed for the first time all week, but when he finally did reach them, he was a bit confused.

"What happened to your hair?"

"Fred and George happened to my hair," Ron grumbled, his now-yellow hair blowing a little in the breeze. Hermione and Ginny smiled brightly at him in welcome as Harry joined the three sitting on the grass.

"And you can't fix it?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrow.

"We're trying," Hermione snapped, losing her smile. She obviously didn't like the fact that something was getting the better of her. Harry smiled sheepishly at her, running a hand through his own messy dark hair. When his guardians and Tonks got into their pranking, they liked to play around with hair colours – and they liked to make the colours nearly impossible to get rid of. Which meant Harry probably knew more about how to fix Ron's hair than Hermione did…

"Hold still," Harry commanded, before tapping his wand on Ron's head three times. The effect was instantaneous, and the blondeness disappeared.

"How did you do that?" Hermione asked, sounding put-out.

"I live with three pranksters, 'Mione," Harry reminded her. "Fred and George as good, but not as good as two of the original Marauders. They've been giving me pranking lessons, you know. Messing around with hair colours isn't even that difficult."

"Brilliant!" Ron grinned. "If you've been getting lessons, you can get Fred and George back for me!"

"Err…"

"Come on, Harry!" Ron pleaded.

"I don't really fancy them unleashing their pranking skills on _me_ in retaliation, Ron…"

"So? You've never pranked them before. It's not like they're going to have any reason to suspect you."

"Ron's right," Ginny spoke up. "The twins won't ever suspect you. They'll blame Lee, or someone else from their year."

"Or maybe Sirius. They've tried to prank him loads of times. They might think it's Sirius getting his revenge."

"I'll think about it," Harry told them, sighing. It _was_ a waste, he supposed, to get prank lessons from the Marauders and then not put what he learned to use…

.

By night, Harry had come up with a vague idea for a prank. By next morning, he had fine-tuned it, and made sure he was up bright and early so he could catch the twins before they left the common room. When the Weasley twins finally descended the stairs, their half-closed eyes showing off their grogginess, Harry swished his wand at them, forcing his two whoopee cushions to zoom forwards and attach themselves to the bums of the redheads. He had spent a good portion of the previous night huddled over charm books, trying to figure out how to make the cushions do what he wanted. Firstly, they had to remain invisible – that had been easy. Then he had found the 24-hour-sticking charm, to ensure the twins couldn't get rid of the cushions if they figured out they were there. Then was the charm that made them unnoticeable, so the Weasleys couldn't feel that something wasn't quite right on their backside. Finally, and this had taken the longest, he'd had to find a spell to make the cushions cause a horrible smell every time the twins sat, as well as the usual farting sound.

All in all, Harry was quite proud of his work. Just before the twins left the room, Harry quickly swished his wand at them again, giving them bright blonde hair to match the hair they'd given Ron yesterday. At least now they'd know _why_ they'd been pranked.

"What're you doing up so early?" Ron suddenly asked, and Harry turned to find his best friend yawning at him.

"It's not early," Harry said, confused. "Not anymore, anyway. You're up."

"I heard you getting up earlier," Ron told him, poking him over so he could sit beside Harry on the sofa. "Just couldn't be bothered doing anything about it."

"Lazy sod," Harry grinned. "I got up early to make sure I caught the twins before they left."

"You gonna tell me what you're doing yet?"

"Already done it. You'll see. Just don't go near them, if you value your nose at all."

"Why won't you just _tell _me?" Ron grumbled.

"More fun this way," Harry told his friend, smirking.

.

When Hermione and Ginny finally got up – an unusual thing, since it was usually Ron everyone had to wait for – the four Gryffindors headed down to the Great Hall. The scene when they arrived made Harry snort, though he tried his best to look more confused than amused as the four approached the Weasley twins who were sat on their own, a very large space between them and the rest of the Gryffindor house. Nobody wanted to sit near them.

"What's up?" Ginny asked, sitting opposite the twins. Hermione, Ron and Harry copied her, although Harry really didn't want to sit near the twins either.

"Did you do this?" both the twins shot at Ron, who stared right back at them.

"I can't change hair colours. You don't learn that in fifth year."

"Someone did it," George grumbled. "Someone in Gryffindor. And it's not just the hair!"

"Yeah. Ron can't have done this," Fred decided. "Someone smart did this. Someone with pranking experience."

"What do you mean, 'it's not just the hair'?" Hermione asked. "I don't see anything else wrong with you…"

"This," the twins chorused together, before standing up and thumping back down onto the bench, releasing an extremely foul odour as a loud farting noise ripped through the hall. Instantly, the four younger Gryffindors jumped up, pinching their noses.

"Ew," Ginny said. "That's just… ew."

"At least it'll keep the little snakes away from us," Fred suddenly grinned.

"We could sit near Filch," George said thoughtfully. "I wonder if we can make it smell worse."

"Not without knowing what's causing it," Fred shook his head. "Time to find Lee?"

"Definitely," George nodded.

"Later," the twins chorused, quickly leaving the hall, talking excitedly with each other.

"Trust them to be _happy_ about being pranked," Ginny said, rolling her eyes.

"Well, they _are_ pranksters," Harry shrugged. "If Sirius or Remus gets pranked, they act grouchy and get the best revenge they can, but still, you can tell they love it."

.

Harry and Ron headed out to the Quidditch pitch after breakfast to practice together for a bit, only to find the Slytherin team zooming around it.

"The pitch wasn't booked for them," Ron muttered, glaring at the blurry green figures. "Not for today. It was free."

"Leave it, Ron," Harry sighed, since the redhead looked ready to storm out into the pitch and hex the Slytherins. "We don't need to give them any more of a reason to attack us than they already have."

"Attack _you_, you mean," Ron corrected, turning away from the pitch. "They've never attacked the rest of us."

"They attacked Luna last year!"

"That was different," Ron shrugged. "Don't give me that look!" he added when Harry glared at him. "You know I like her. But others don't. They didn't start on her for being your friend, they started on her for being Luna."

"Either way, last year, Voldemort wasn't back," Harry continued, ignoring his friend as he flinched at the name. "Now he is, and Malfoy's dad is one of the top Death Eaters, remember? They're going to feel a lot more confident now he thinks the big Dark Lord is behind him. They won't just attack me. Not anymore."

"You don't know that," Ron protested, although it was half-hearted, and Harry knew he had got through to him.

"Anyway," Harry shrugged. "It's not like they'll be there all day. We'll come back later. Or…"

"What?" Ron asked.

"Room of Requirement," Harry said slowly. "I'll bet we could turn that into a pitch…"

"Brilliant!" Ron exclaimed, already rushing to the castle.

.

It was a tired and hungry but happy pair of Gryffindors that joined Hermione, Ginny, and the still-pranked twins at dinner that night.

"Good practice?" Ginny asked as Ron and Harry piled food onto their plates.

"Yeah," Ron said around a mouthful of food.

"Couldn't do it on the pitch though," Harry added, trying to stab his fork into the food on his plate. It took him a minute to realise that the food was moving every time he put the cutlery near it, as though repelled by it. "Slytherins were on it. Didn't book it," Harry explained at Ginny's look. "So we did it in the Room of Requirements. And what the _hell_ is up with my food?"

"Payback, Potter," Fred suddenly piped up with a grin. "Although, don't think you're getting off _that_ lightly."

"Yeah, we've got more tricks up our sleeves," George added.

"How-" Harry's mouth gaped open in shock. "How did you…?"

"We have our ways," Fred said mysteriously, tapping his nose.

"You might want to avoid them for a bit," Ginny advised Harry as he continued chasing food around his plate with his fork.

"It's the _twins_, Gin," Harry groaned. "I'm doomed."

* * *

Chapter 11 (:

See, I did say that with less distractions I'd produce a bit more. Still a shorter chapter than I'd like, but they'll build up in length again as I ease back into writing. As it is, I'm flicking through chapters of year 4 and what's posted of year 5 almost constantly, trying to remember what _I've_ written, and what was actually written by _other_ people... honestly, my head's just full of all different snippets from Harry Potter stories lately.

Anyway. For next chapter, if you'd be so kind, any prank ideas? It's going to be an all-out war between Harry and the twins now (I do recall making a promise sometime for more light-hearted, fun chapters!) and honestly, I'm not sure what to do, aside from the usual things like embarassing hair colours, or making Harry grow boobs or... well, you get the picture.

And, one final thing before I go. Have you all seen the new Harry Potter film? Pretty good if you ask me! Better than the last two, anyway - they missed out less this time than they did in the other two films (in my opinion, at least). Ending wasn't _perfect_ since they didn't make as big of a fuss about the fake locket as they should have, but all in all... good film! The added chase scene at the Burrow... yeah, it wasn't in the book, but it added a nice touch. I think it was one of my favourite scenes in the film, actually! The whole cinema jumped when the hand appeared in the water - that was simply hilarious! And there were so many sniffles in the room at his death... all in all, fab experience!

_18th July 09: Quick note. The reviews seem a tad messed up now, due to my deleting a previous authors note chapter... it was taking up space, not to mention being against the rules (or so I was told before?), but now the reviews have all been pushed around and gah! I've no idea how to fix it, so if the site doesn't let you review, send me a PM? A couple of people already have, and I want to say a big thanks to them for putting in that extra effort to let me know what they thought of the chapter!_


	13. Truce

**HP Year 5: Let the War Begin  
**_Chapter 12  
_

When Harry woke up on Monday, he eyed his surroundings warily, almost expecting Fred and George to be hiding somewhere. Satisfied that they weren't, and that nothing looked out of place, he cautiously got dressed, grabbed what he needed for the day, and went down to wait in the common room.

"You look tense," Ginny remarked, and Harry jumped, having not noticed her arrival.

"I don't trust the twins. They haven't done anything yet. _What_ are they planning?"

"As if they'd tell me," Ginny told him, dropping down beside him on the sofa. "Just keep pranking them back. They'll call a truce eventually."

"Who'll call a truce?" a yawning Ron asked, sleepily sitting on the floor by their feet.

"The twins."

"Oh, yeah. Blimey, I forgot," Ron grinned at Harry. "Better be careful, mate."

"Coming?" Ginny asked, hopping up as Hermione appeared.

"Can't I just hide here all day?" Harry asked, even as he followed the two girls out into the corridor.

"Come on, mate, where's that Gryffindor courage?" Ron asked, nudging him.

"Besides, you have to face them eventually," Hermione told him, though she looked as amused as the rest of them.

"Easy for you to say," Harry grumbled. "You're not the twin's target."

"Are they _staring_ at us?" Ginny asked, distracting Harry from his grumbling.

"Who?"

"The suits of armour!" Ginny exclaimed, pointing ahead. Sure enough, as they approached the armour, it was all too obvious that they were staring – although, not at the group. Just at Harry. Nervously, Harry kept his wand trained on them as they walked past, then sighed when the two suits of armour started clanking along after them.

"Great," he mumbled.

"At least you're just being followed," Ron grinned. "Could be worse. They could've done something really embarrassing to you."

.

By the time they neared the Great Hall, Harry had a good fifteen suits of armour trailing along behind him. None of his silencing or banishing spells seemed to be working on them.

"I can't take them into the hall with me!"

"Try disillusioning yourself," Hermione suggested. Harry did so, and then began walking around cautiously. The suits didn't follow.

"Brilliant!" he exclaimed, following his friends into the hall. He cancelled the disillusionment charm after the doors were safely closed behind them, blocking the suits of armours views of him.

"Problem, dear Harriekins?" Fred asked sweetly when Harry sat opposite the twins and scowled at them.

"Not at all, _dear Freddiekins_," Harry smiled back, just as sweetly. As soon as the twins took their attention off him to speak to Lee, he waved his wand under the table at their bags. After that, he felt much better.

"What did you do?" Ginny asked after the twins left.

"I don't know what you're on about," Harry told her with an innocent face.

"I saw you do something to their bags, Harry, spill it!"

"Just a little charm on their quills," Harry shrugged. "Sorry, Gin, got to go!"

.

"I don't suppose you happen to know why the Weasleys were unable to copy their notes in my class today, do you?" Sirius asked that night when Harry joined him in the Room of Requirements for his training.

"I don't know what you're on about," Harry told Sirius what he had told Ginny that morning, feigning innocence. Sirius wordlessly held up two pieces of parchment full of the words 'I am a git' over and over again, and Harry couldn't hold back a chuckle.

"They deserved it," he told Sirius, dodging when his godfather sent a stinging hex at him. "They charmed all the suits of armour in the castle to follow me about all day," he explained, throwing his own spell back. Sirius blocked it, then sent off a handful of spells at Harry, one after the other. He managed to dodge them all.

"So why are you having a prank war with the twins?" Sirius asked, dodging a stunning spell.

"They pranked Ron," Harry told him, firing off three jinxes in quick succession. Sirius blocked the first two, dodged the third, then fired off his own jinx which collided with another Harry had just cast. The two jinxes bounced off each other, scorching the walls. "He asked me to get them back." Harry cast a quick cushioning charm on the floor in front of Sirius's feet, and smiled smugly when his godfather stumbled on the invisible cushion. It wasn't enough to stop Sirius though, who managed to send a disarming spell at Harry whilst regaining his balance.

"How'd they know it was you who got them, and not Ron?"

"No idea – ouch!" a stinging hex had caught Harry on the cheek.

"Gives you a chance to put the Marauder lessons to practice, at least," Sirius smirked, dodging a spell before successfully disarming Harry. "You need to block more, rather than dodging all the time," he told Harry, chucking his wand back to him. "Dodging uses more energy than blocking, and if you're duelling proper Death Eaters, you need all the energy you can get."

"Got it," Harry nodded, and the two stepped back into position. "Any ideas, though?" he asked, throwing up a shield as a hex flew towards him.

"About the twins? Get some itching powder. That stuff's really annoying."

"Speaking from experience?" Harry grinned, dodging a stunner and blocking a charm he didn't recognise.

"James thought it would be funny, after I interrupted one of his snogging sessions with Lily in seventh year," Sirius winced at the memory. "As if the boils weren't bad enough!"

"Boils?" Harry asked, casting a _Rictusempra_ at Sirius.

"Your mum wasn't too happy about my interruption either," Sirius chuckled. "And Merlin, when she got mad, she got _mad_."

"Well, who can blame her?" Harry asked, dodging as more spells came flying his way, before hastily throwing up a shield, remembering he was supposed to dodge less. "Having to put up with you… that'd be enough to give _anyone_ a temper!"

"Watch who you're cheeky to!" Sirius chided him, smirking. Harry merely stuck his tongue out, dropping his shield to disarm his godfather.

.

Much to Harry's relief, the next day the suits of armour left him alone. He had taken Sirius's advice and dug out some itching powder, and ask Dobby to cover the Weasley twins robes with it whilst they slept. He grinned at them in the Great Hall that morning, and they scowled back, scratching furiously at themselves. Though their itching prevented them from eating much, it didn't stop them both pointing their wands at Harry, and he spent the whole day walking gingerly as his socks tried to bite his toes amidst laughter from the Slytherins as all his clothes now had Slytherin colours rather than Gryffindor ones.

"Nice clothes," Sirius smirked when Harry hung back after Defence Against the Dark Arts that day.

"Keep smirking and I won't be the only one wearing Slytherin colours," Harry warned, hopping up to sit on Sirius's desk.

"Was there something you wanted, then?" Sirius asked, settling himself on the desk beside Harry after moving aside some essays that had to be marked. "Or did you just stay behind to threaten me?"

"Neither, really," Harry shrugged. "Honestly, I'm not sure why I stayed," he admitted.

"Hmm," Sirius pursed his lips, then hopped off the desk. "In that case, how about we go to the kitchens and get some food?"

"Sounds good," Harry agreed.

.

"Got the twins back for giving you Slytherin attire yet, then?" Sirius asked as they settled themselves in the kitchens, a mountain of food piled onto the table in front of them.

"I got them first," Harry grinned, taking a bite out of a sandwich. "This was their revenge. I got Dobby to cover their robes in itching powder while they slept."

"Poor blokes," Sirius winced.

"They deserve it though," Harry said firmly. "I mean, hell, I'm not going to be able to walk properly for a week!"

"Yeah, that's an interesting spell they've got," Sirius said appreciatively. "I'll have to keep it in mind to use on Tonks."

"Thanks for the sympathy," Harry grumbled, swatting at Sirius. "What's she done this time?"

"Hidden some bloody alarms in my room. Well, not just my room. Doesn't matter where I sleep. Constantly woken up at six in the bloody morning!"

"Ouch," Harry murmured sympathetically.

"Damn right! She's going to regret ever being born once I get through with her!"

"It's bound to run out eventually. She wouldn't be that mean."

"Don't underestimate her, Harry," Sirius warned. "That's what I used to do."

"Make a deal with her or something, then," Harry suggested, picking up a biscuit. "You have to stop it somehow. I don't want you being grouchy when you're teaching us!"

"Nice, Harry," Sirius rolled his eyes. "More worried about having a grumpy teacher than having a… a… a distraught godfather!"

"Yeah, I reckon I've got my priorities worked out pretty well," Harry grinned, ducking as Sirius threw a grape at him.

"And there we go again, dodging rather than blocking," Sirius smirked.

"It's not like _Protego_ can block a grape!"

"No, but you know solid shields too, do you not?"

In reply, Harry chucked a grape back at Sirius, who also dodged.

"You were saying?" Harry asked, a smug look on his face.

"Shut it, you," Sirius retorted, chucking another grape at Harry. Rather than dodging this time, he caught it in his hand and chucked it back, laughing as it bounced off Sirius's forehead.

"Right, you asked for it!" Sirius exclaimed, picking up one of the small pies sitting on the table.

"Uh oh," Harry gulped, jumping up and backing away. He dodged as Sirius threw the pie at him, but as he was straightening up, another one came flying and smacked him in the face, covering him in crumbs and a sticky apple sauce. Quickly, he summoned a pie to him and lobbed it at Sirius before ducking out of the kitchens, shouting a hasty apology over his shoulder to the house elves.

.

The next day, Harry got a good laugh as the Weasley twins found themselves being followed by a niffler all day, which constantly jumped on them and chewed at their belongings.

"Did you do that?" Ron asked when he found Harry hiding in the kitchens that night.

"If I didn't, would I be in here hiding from the twins?" Harry asked, grinning. "Hagrid let me borrow it."

"Better watch your back," Ron laughed, grabbing some of the food from the table. "They're going to want some serious revenge after that."

.

And so, on Thursday, Harry found himself wandering around all day with an extremely high-pitched voice, flaming orange hair, and a "Malfoy Lover" tattoo on his forehead. In retaliation, he charmed all the twins shoes to be invisible, so they had to spend the whole day walking everywhere in just their Slytherin-coloured socks.

"Truce?" Harry suggested to them later that night.

"Truce," they agreed brightly. After cancelling the invisible charms he had placed on their shoes, the twins cancelled the spells on Harry, allowing him to go to Remus for his training completely prank-free.

.

The first Quidditch match of the season was that Saturday, and it was Gryffindors vs. Slytherins.

"Eat," Harry commanded Ron. The redhead shook his head.

"I'll be sick."

"No you won't," Harry assured him, piling some toast and eggs onto the plate. "You need food and energy. It'll help settle your stomach. Trust me."

"I can't."

"You _can_," Harry said firmly. "Ginny?" he pleaded.

"Ronald Weasley, you eat some of that toast _right now_ or I swear to Merlin I will hex you _so_ bad!" Ginny all but yelled at Ron, doing a very good imitation of Mrs. Weasley.

"Fine," he grumbled, and finally took a bite of food.

"Thanks, Gin," Harry beamed at her.

.

Ron still didn't eat as much as he normally would at breakfast, but it was better than nothing, and he looked slightly calmer when the team finally started heading down to the changing rooms.

"You'll be fine," Harry and the twins reassured him as they all changed into Quidditch gear.

"Yeah, you were practically as good as Oliver at all the practices!" Katie Bell told him brightly.

"Just make sure and catch that snitch quick, Harry," Ron mumbled as the team finished changing and headed out onto the pitch. "Don't let them win."

"Just you worry about guarding the goals," Harry grinned, and clapped Ron on the back. "Let me worry about the snitch. Good luck," he finished, as they mounted their brooms, and at Madam Hooch's whistle, fourteen players raised quickly into the sky.

Harry wasted no time in moving around the pitch, watching for a flash of gold. Ron was doing okay at the goals when he looked over, a look of determination on his face as his eyes followed the quaffle. It hadn't gone near him yet. A collective gasp from the stands made Harry glance round, and he saw that Alicia had been knocked off her broom by a bludger.

Fred caught her as she fell, giving her a lift back onto her broom, and the game continued.

Suddenly, the bludger that had knocked Alicia off her broom soared towards Harry, and he pulled away sharply. It missed his body, but caught the tail end of his broom, sending him spinning.

"Nice dance moves, Potter!" Malfoy sneered, zooming past Harry once he had managed to stop spinning. The spinning had left him faintly dizzy, and he only just managed to avoid the second bludger that got sent his way.

"At least I manage to avoid getting hit," Harry shouted back when the bludger that had missed him managed to slam into Malfoy's leg instead. The blonde boy glared at him, but didn't say anything.

The game went on and on, with no sign on the snitch. Harry was surprised when the sky started to darken and the temperature started to drop – it was still early October. It didn't get dark _this_ early… surely the game couldn't have lasted that long already?

Then again, it wasn't like he had a watch on him. And he knew all too well how easy it was to completely lose track of the time whilst up in the air…

But, still... The temperature was still dropping, and pretty fast at that. Something didn't feel right, not at all…

"Alright, Harry?" George asked, flying up beside him. "You've went pale."

"Don't you feel it?" Harry asked, scanning the area for big looming dark figures now, rather than the little golden snitch.

"You mean the coldness?" George asked, confused.

"It's like the match in third year. It got dark, and cold. It's still early, George. It shouldn't be dark. And the temperature shouldn't drop that fast. Even the teachers are looking suspicious."

And indeed they were. None of them were sitting now; rather, they seemed to be exiting their stand.

"Harry, the snitch!" George suddenly exclaimed, pointing over to the opposite side of the pitch. Possible-Dementors forgotten, Harry sped towards the little golden ball, determined to catch it before Malfoy. The blonde boy had noticed it too, though, and they were flying neck to neck, arms outstretched, hands brushing against each other…

"Yes!" Harry exclaimed, his hands closing around the little ball. He heard a whistle blow, and heard a sudden intake of breath from Malfoy. A quick look at the Slytherin's scared face told Harry all he had to know. Dementors _were_ here.

.

The first Dementor that Harry noticed was near the Hufflepuff stands, and none of the teachers had noticed it – when he found them, they were busy dealing with a small group of three Dementors over at the Gryffindor stands. Harry sped towards the single Dementor, noticing that it had managed to grab onto the wrist of one of the younger students. No one was doing anything; none of them knew how to fight off a Dementor. The Patronus charm wasn't taught until later on in seventh year. _They really need to teach it sooner_, Harry thought irritably as he reached the stands and pointed his wand at the Dementor. Thinking of some of his happy times with his guardians from that summer, he yelled, "_Expecto Patronum!_" and watched in relief as his silver stag Patronus chased the Dementor away from the students.

"I thought Hogwarts was warded against things like this!" Ron said, sounding scared as he flew up beside Harry.

"It's not warded against Dementors," Harry shook his head. "Because the Ministry uses – used – them for protection."

"They attacked the train, though," Fred said, as he and George joined Harry and Ron. The silver stag Patronus floated in the air beside them, keeping the coldness away from them. "So obviously people know they're not under Ministry control anymore. Why didn't they fix the wards?"

"Maybe they thought they had more time?" Harry suggested. "I'm sure nobody expected two Dementor attacks so close together."

"Not like Dumbledore to leave things to chance, though," Ron muttered.

"Harry!" George exclaimed, pointing towards the Slytherins, where two Dementors were ganging up on them. Harry could see Severus and Remus trying to get to the Slytherins, but Harry was closer – and faster, with his broom.

"Come on, Prongs!" Harry told his Patronus, flying towards the Slytherins. The Dementors disappeared fast, but the bludgers that had just been hit towards them by the Slytherin beaters didn't, and since the Dementors were gone, they picked a new target: Harry. They caught him by surprise, knocking him off his broom, and a moment later, everything went black.

.

When he came to, Harry found himself lying on something soft and comfortable – and _very_ familiar. He groaned as he opened his eyes, recognising his surroundings immediately. _Hospital Wing. Again._

"You're awake," Severus stated, sounding relieved and walking towards Harry.

"Is everyone okay?" Harry asked, ignoring the faint dizziness that overcame him as he quickly pushed himself into a sitting position. "I mean, the Dementors – they didn't get anyone, right?"

"All students are fine, and all the Dementors have been contained until the Ministry can find time in it's _busy_ _schedule_ to come and remove them." Harry didn't miss the sarcasm in the Potion Master's voice. "You, on the other hand, gave everyone quite a fright, falling off your broom like that."

"Not like I did it on purpose," Harry grumbled as Madam Pomfrey appeared. "Bludgers are hard to avoid even when you _aren't_ distracted with Dementors."

"Well, you still have a mild concussion," said Madam Pomfrey, who had been waving her wand over Harry as he spoke to Severus. "But the broken bones are mended, and as long as you don't over-exert yourself… you are free to go."

"Brilliant!" Harry grinned, hopping off the bed and swaying a little.

"I did say _don't_ over-exert yourself," Madam Pomfrey tutted as Severus grabbed Harry's arm. "Unless you'd like to remain here for the rest of the day?"

"I'll be good," Harry said meekly, before following Severus out of the Hospital Wing. The two were silent as they walked along the corridors, a sort of awkward silence in the air, as the two hadn't talked since Severus regained his memories.

"I have been meaning to… apologise," Severus said finally as they neared the Great Hall. "For my actions, before."

"I thought you couldn't remember that week?"

"No, but your mutt of a guardian took the time to enlighten me."

"You don't have to apologise, Professor," Harry assured him. "You couldn't help it. It wasn't your fault."

"All the same, I hurt you and - "

"_And_," Harry cut across. "I got over it. It wasn't you talking, sir, and you're back to normal now. I'm just glad we _could_ get your memories back." By now, they had reached the doors of the Great Hall. "I'll see you tonight, sir," Harry finished, giving his Uncle a quick smile before joining his friends at the long Gryffindor table.

.

"Alright, Harry?" Ron asked as Harry settled down with his friends.

"Yeah, just hungry," Harry grinned, piling food onto his plate. "Madam Pomfrey said I have a slight concussion, but if she's let me out, it can't be too bad."

"You should have seen the Slytherins faces," Ginny smirked as Harry started shovelling food into his mouth. "Saved by Harry Potter of all people. They looked like they'd rather have had the Dementors kiss them!"

"Well, most of them aren't known for their cleverness," Harry shrugged. "It's weird, but they didn't even affect me that much… no depressing memories…" he trailed off thoughtfully.

"Well, they didn't catch you by surprise," Ginny said logically. "And you were focusing on other things – the snitch, and helping people – _and_ they weren't just targeting you…"

"I suppose," Harry nodded. It _did_ make sense, he supposed. "Alright, 'Mione?" he asked the bushy-haired witch, who was sitting very quietly.

"A Dementor got a bit too near her for anyone's taste," Ginny murmured quietly. "Sirius only just got rid of it on time. It really looked like it was going to… well, you know."

"Hermione?" Harry asked gently, for she had not looked up at all during Ginny's explanation, and he wasn't too sure his friend had even heard his question to begin with.

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, looking up at him in surprise. "You're back!"

"I got back awhile ago," Harry said slowly.

"Oh," Hermione repeated, and then she suddenly stood up. "I've got an essay to finish. I'm glad you're okay," she told them, before hurrying out of the hall.

"I'll go talk to her," Ginny said, shooting a look at Harry when he started to get up to follow Hermione.

"She was pretty shaken up," Ron told Harry after Ginny had left.

"So would I be, if I'd nearly gotten kissed by a Dementor," Harry replied, shuddering. The two of them lapsed into silence as they ate their food – at least, until Harry swore. Loudly.

"What?" Ron asked worriedly, watching as Harry dropped his fork to hold his scar. Harry didn't hear him, too busy trying to block out the pain, trying to call upon the Occlumency methods he knew, all too aware of the hundreds of students surrounding him. _They can't know. If they know, Voldemort will find out._ Mind made up, Harry stood, trying not to sway, and all but ran from the hall.

He didn't get far before he collapsed to the ground in pain, but at least he wasn't surrounded by students. He was vaguely aware of someone called his name before his mind was no longer his own.

.

Harry waited patiently, hidden away in a small forest, for his followers to report to him. His lips curled upwards in a small smile as a distant _Crack!_ reached his ears, signifying the arrival of his second most trusted, Bellatrix Lestrange.

"My Lord," she simpered, bowing to kiss the hem of his robes. "Your plan worked, My Lord!" Bella told him delightedly. "The Dementors were able to penetrate the grounds, master, and the Ministry is deeply shaken!"

"Were any of the students, or staff, kissed, my dear Bella?" Harry asked.

"No, My Lord," Bella said, the delight leaving her voice. She was such a blood-thirsty creature, almost as desperate as he himself to see punishment. "The Potter brat was injured, though! Fell off his broom like a little baby, My Lord!"

"Excellent," Harry told his loyal follower, allowing her to see a very rare smile of satisfaction. "You have done well, Bella, you may go."

"You are too kind, My Lord," Bella told him, her eyes full of pride before she Disapparated.

.

When Harry came to for the second time that day, he found himself being carried. Twisting his head a little, he found it was _Fred_ of all people.

"You can put me down," he said, and at that, Fred _did_ put him down – he landed with a thump on the floor. "Could've been nicer about it," Harry grumbled even as Fred helped pull him back up.

"Well, you shouldn't frighten people who are carrying you!" Fred shot back, looking guilty.

"You okay?" asked Ron, who had been following along behind them. It was he who had grabbed the twins before following Harry out of the hall.

"Apart from a sore arse," Harry gave a pointed look at Fred, but he smiled to show he was joking, "yeah. No _Crucio_s this time."

"Still best get you to Sirius and Remus," George told him, pulling him forwards. He stumbled a little, but otherwise managed to walk fine. The three Weasleys left him when they arrived at the Marauder quarters, but when Harry entered them he found the place empty. Shrugging to himself as the vision hadn't told him anything important that would need to be passed on, he found the potion he was supposed to take after a connection to Voldemort's mind, leaving the one that was designed for dealing with the aftermath of the mental-Cruciatus, and soon found himself dozing off on the couch.

* * *

I'm going on holiday on the 27th for a week, so I might post another chapter on the 26th, or I might just wait 'til I come back. We'll see x)

You'll be pleased to know that chapters 13 and 14 are both almost complete. You'll _also_ be pleased to know that the chapters are starting to grow in length again, finally. Still got a little bit to write in them, but for the most part, they're done. They've been so much fun to write, since we're _finally_ getting to the really interesting part of Harry's year! I'm still open to more prank ideas, since there will be more pranks in future at some point. I mean, seriously, in war they _really_ need some humour, don't you think?

I went back and fixed the format of the year5 chapters, since it was really bugging me, and I'm going to fix year4 soon too, when I can tear myself away from reading/writing. I've gotten well back into Time-travel fics again (you know the ones, where Harry gets to redo his years at Hogwarts and fix all his mistakes and save peoples lives).

So anyway, let me know what you think of the chapter! I've been getting a lot less reviews than usual with these chapters, although I suppose I deserve it, after disappearing for a year.


	14. Captured

**HP Year 5: Let the War Begin  
**_Chapter 13  
_

After the attack at the Quidditch match and the vision afterwards, Harry finally got a break, as nothing happened all throughout November. Harry welcomed the break from drama, and he _definitely_ enjoyed not having to put up with Voldemort's visions. Whether the lack of visions were from his slowly-increasing ability at Occlumency or something else, he didn't know, but either way he wasn't complaining. Homework was building and classes increasing in difficulty as teachers pushed students to their limits, eager to prepare them for their O.W.L. exams and Harry was merely thankful that he had no distractions (other than training and Occlumency lessons) to slow him down with his studying. Before Harry knew it, the chilly weather was back as December arrived, and with it the last Hogsmeade trip before Christmas.

.

"Come on, mate!" Ron yelled, thumping Harry repeatedly over the head with a pillow. "Oi, Neville, come help me!"

"Neville, help him and I'll hex you," Harry warned, reaching over to grab the pillow out of Ron's hands and whacking Ron in the stomach with it. The redhead pounced on top of him, grabbing the pillow back to carry on with his attack.

"Merlin, Ron! I'm up! I'm up!" Harry cried out through his laughter, before shoving Ron off his bed so that he landed on the floor with a thump.

"About time!" Ron said exasperatedly as he picked himself up off the floor. "It's not like you to sleep in. It's Hogsmeade time!"

"Blimey, I forgot about that!" Harry exclaimed, grabbing clothes from his trunk. "Why didn't you wake me up sooner?" he demanded as he changed into warm clothes.

"I tried!" Ron held up his hands. "It's not my fault you're a bloody deep sleeper."

"That's rich, coming from you," Harry retorted, chucking another pillow at the redhead.

"Is Cedric still coming today?" Neville asked, interrupting the argument.

"Yeah, he's going to spend some time with Cho then they'll meet as at the Three Broomsticks," Harry told Neville as he grabbed his jacket and wand. "Ready?" he asked. The other two nodded, and they found Hermione, Ginny and Luna waiting impatiently for them in the common room.

"Don't look at us," Ron told them, motioning to himself and Neville. "Harry's the one who wouldn't wake up!"

"Well, it makes a change, it being someone other than you," Ginny grinned, linking arms with Luna and Hermione and leading the way out.

"If it was me, I'd have been hexed," Ron grumbled as he, Harry and Neville followed the girls. "But when it's Harry? No hexes. She still finds a way to insult me!"

"Well, she was right, you know," Harry reminded Ron. "How often is it that _I'm_ the one to sleep in?"

"Still doesn't give her the right to twist it in a way that puts _me_ in a bad light!" Ron grumbled, and Harry and Neville chuckled.

"What sort of sister would she be if she _didn't_ take every opportunity offered to insult you?" Neville asked.

"A nice one," Ron replied without hesitating.

"And when are you ever nice to Ginny?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"All the time!"

"Name one nice thing you've done for her," Neville said, giving Ron a cheeky grin.

"Err…"

.

The trip to Hogsmeade took a little longer than usual, since all the ice and snow covering the ground made it a rather dangerous walk. Not a single one of them had managed to avoid falling flat on their bums, although the girls seemed to be faring better.

"_How_ are you doing that?" Harry asked irritably after picking himself up from the ground for what felt like the hundredth time.

"We're girls," Ginny stated simply, as if that proved everything. Harry rolled his eyes at the blatantly sexist comment, sighing in relief when they finally arrived at the small village.

"We could grab some Butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks while we wait on Cho and Cedric?" Neville offered when the group came to a stop, standing around awkwardly.

"Good idea, Neville," Luna smiled dreamily. "It's rather cold."

"If you had said something I could have cast a warming charm on you, you know," Hermione chided Luna as they made their way into the busy pub.

"Oh," Luna said quietly, then shrugged.

"I'll order them," Ron piped up cheerfully, leaving the rest of them to find a table.

"He _still_ has a crush on Madam Rosmerta?" Ginny questioned, shaking her head as they finally found a table.

"He'll get over it," Luna told her, waving a hand about vaguely.

"Who'll get over what?" Ron asked, setting the Butterbeers down on the table.

"Malfoy, over a comment Ginny made yesterday," Neville told Ron, taking a grateful sip from one of the Butterbeers. "They're so warm," he said, sighing contentedly.

.

The group stayed in the Three Broomsticks, quite happy to be free from the cold, until it was time to meet Cedric and Cho at the Shrieking Shack. Hermione cast warming charms on everybody before they left, and Harry was grateful not to have to deal with the cold. Really, he wasn't sure why he hadn't thought of the charm before himself.

"Harry!" Cedric's voice floated over to the group, and Harry glanced up to see the young Auror-in-training running towards them, Cho close behind.

"I thought we were meeting at the Shrieking Shack," Harry said, confused.

"We have to go!" Cho said frantically. She looked scared and pale and out of breath – and, on closer inspection, so did Cedric.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, tensing instantly.

"They all just Apparated by the Shrieking Shack," Cedric told them quickly, walking towards the village so that they were forced to follow. "Death Eaters. We have to warn -"

Just then, a purple spell flew towards them, and Cedric lunged at Cho, knocking her to the ground so that she just narrowly avoided being hit. More spells flew overhead, one of them managing to blast one of the shops that Harry had never bothered entering.

"Too late," Harry muttered, pushing himself up from the ground. Funny, he didn't remember even dropping. "Ginny, Luna," he said urgently, turning to the two younger girls. "Go to Honeydukes. Tell the owner that there are Death Eaters, and that we need access to their basement. You know about the secret passageway."

"But -" Ginny started.

"No buts, Ginny!" Harry raised his voice before quickly bringing up a shield as an orange spell flew towards him. "You're talented, Gin, but we've still got more experience, and nobody else knows about that passageway!"

"Come on, Ginny," Luna murmured, pulling the young Weasley with her. There was no hint of dreaminess in her voice now.

"Neville, round up whoever you can, and send them to Honeydukes," Harry said, turning his pleading eyes to Neville. _Please don't argue. Don't make this any harder._

"Alright, Harry," Neville agreed sombrely, before sprinting away. Dodging as another spell flew towards him, Harry fired a quick succession of hexes at the approaching Death Eaters, before throwing up as strong a shield as he could muster and digging his three-way mirror out his pocket. Despite his guardians living at Hogwarts now, he still tended to carry the mirror around, and he was immensely grateful. He tapped it with his wand, waiting impatiently for Sirius or Remus to pick up their own, keeping a wary eye on his friends and the Death Eaters. They had been slowly backing back into the village, and now they were surrounded by hysterical villagers.

"Harry?" Remus asked, looking confused in the little mirror. "What's going on?" he asked, his face tensing as he heard the screams surrounding Harry.

"Death Eaters," Harry told Remus, flicking his wand at one of the robed figures, stunning him. "Don't know how many – a lot."

"I'll alert the staff and the Order," Remus told him quickly. "Good Merlin, the students -"

"Ginny, Luna and Neville are rounding them up, sending them back through the passageway from Honeydukes," Harry quickly explained, then swore as a stinging hex hit his arm, making him drop the mirror. Cedric stunned the Death Eater that had hexed Harry, and he quickly snatched up the mirror. "Better get here quick, Moony."

"Be careful. Get to Honeydukes as fast as you can," Remus told him in an urgent voice. "Stick with your friends," he warned. "There's safety in numbers."

And with that, Remus disappeared. Tucking the mirror back into his pocket, and feeling amazed that he had managed to hold a whole conversation without anything worse than a Stinging hex catching him, Harry turned back to the battle around him.

"Help coming?" Ron shouted over to him, stunning a Death Eater that Harry had spent a few minutes duelling with.

"Got Moony with the mirror," Harry called back, not daring to look at the redhead. He had to keep his eyes on the Death Eaters. No way was he going to Honeydukes like Remus had told him to; too many of the villagers were lying unconscious – or, in some cases, dead. For a _wizarding_ village, they didn't seem to be using much magic. Most of the villagers were running around without even their wands, hoping, it seemed, to simply outrun the Death Eaters. Many sixth and seventh year students from Hogwarts had also joined the battle, rather than fleeing like the younger students, and Harry grimaced when he found the unconscious bodies of the Weasley twins near Zonkos. _At least they're not dead_, he reminded himself. Looking up from the twins, Harry felt a sudden fear fill his whole body.

"Hermione, watch out!" he yelled, charging towards his bushy-haired friend and firing off spells as fast as he could. Many of them hit their targets, but there were _so_ many, all closing in on her… one of them grabbed her, and her eyes met Harry's, full of fear, before she and the Death Eater vanished. _Captured_.

"Cedric!" a panicked voice called out, and Harry whipped around to see Cho running towards Cedric just as he, too, vanished. Distracted as he was by the fact that two of his friends had now been captured, Harry didn't notice the figure slinking up behind him until it was too late, and he barely had the chance to cry out before there was a familiar tug behind his navel and Hogsmeade disappeared.

.

They arrived in a cold dungeon. At least, that's what Harry assumed it was, since the stony walls were damp with moisture. The Death Eater who had captured him dragged him forwards, and a second one grabbed his wand off him as he raised it.

"You won't be needing this," the Death Eater told him in a nasty voice, tucking the into his robes. Harry snarled at him, but didn't have a chance to do much more before he was roughly pushed into a small, dark room. The door slammed shut behind him, and although he didn't hear any locks sliding into place, he knew there was no point trying to open the door; it would either be _charmed_ shut, or there would be a dozen or so Death Eaters guarding it. There was no way he could fight _that_ many Death Eaters, even if he had his wand on him – and if it was simply a complex locking charm, well, he didn't know much about those kinds of spells, so his wandless magic couldn't help him there. But he had to get out somehow… his friends had been captured, too. _Captured_, not killed, and that in itself was frightening. Did Voldemort think they knew something? Harry suddenly felt sick as another thought suddenly crossed his head; was Voldemort going to _torture_ them? Suddenly, something vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled his mirror out in amazement. They hadn't taken it off him? _Well, it's not like they'd expect me to have a magical mirror on me_.

"Harry?" Sirius asked worriedly. Breathing slowly, Harry attempted to get his emotions under control before answering.

"Shouldn't you be off fighting Death Eaters?" Harry asked, not wanting to admit just yet that he had been careless enough to get captured.

"Dumbledore has me guarding the passageway," Sirius said bitterly. "Why he couldn't have someone else do it… where are you? I can hardly see your face from the darkness!"

"I…"

"Harry?" Sirius asked, concerned. "Are you hurt? Are you hiding? Are -"

"Sirius," Harry said quietly, cutting across him. "I'm in a… cell, I suppose."

"A cell," Sirius repeated slowly, his face turning white. Harry stared at the wall opposite him as Sirius disappeared, no doubt alerting people that Harry had been captured.

"They captured Hermione, and then Cedric. I let myself get bloody distracted!" Harry ranted bitterly when Sirius reappeared in the mirror, hoping that if there were Death Eaters guarding the door, they couldn't hear him. "I can't believe it, after all the training you gave me, after all the warnings to always stay focused…"

"Despite your training, Harry, you're not good enough to deal with several Death Eaters at once. You were outnumbered," Sirius said quietly. His tone held no emotion whatsoever and that, more than anything, was what scared Harry. "We'll get you back, Harry," Sirius promised, picking up on his godson's fear.

"You'll try," Harry amended, trying not to let his voice quiver.

"No," Sirius shook his head. "We _will_," he said forcefully. "We can get Snape to sneak you a Portkey -"

"There's more than just me here," Harry cut across him. "And he'd be found out. We'd lose a spy, and we'd quite possibly lose _him_. And don't say his name, either," he added, glancing at the door. "I don't _think_ they can hear me, or I'm sure they'd have stormed in and grabbed the mirror, but you never know…"

"You're rather calm for someone stuck in the clutches of Death Eaters," Sirius said, looking concerned. It was clear to Harry that Sirius himself was trying _very_ hard not to show his panic and fear – and also that his godfather wasn't planning on putting down the mirror anytime soon.

"It's not like they've done anything to me," Harry told him. "Well, yet. I haven't been here very long."

"You're in shock!" Sirius suddenly exclaimed, and Harry had to bite back a hysterical urge to laugh.

"Maybe, maybe not," he said after he had regained control of himself, shuffling back to lean against the damp wall. "Although, I'm leaning towards the 'maybe not'. I was _starting_ to work myself into a panic before the mirror vibrated. Sirius…"

"We'll get you back."

"No," Harry shook his head. "It's not me I'm worried about. The Death Eaters won't kill me, they'll want me to face off with Voldemort again. He likes honour and all that crap, and he'll give me back my wand for a… _fair duel_," Harry said, the last two words spoken with heavy sarcasm. "If I'm lucky, I might be able to pull off another Priori Incantatem, and if not… anyway," he continued, as Sirius opened his mouth to say something, "Hermione and Cedric… and anyone else they might have captured… they won't be so lucky. Voldemort doesn't need them alive."

"For once in your life," Sirius ground out between clenched teeth. "Could you at least pretend to give a damn about your own well-being?!"

"I can't," Harry said softly. "It's easier not to be scared when I act like I don't care what'll happen to me. Don't you think I _know_ what the Death Eaters will have planned? Just because Voldemort wants me alive, doesn't mean he wants me unhurt." Harry shivered, drawing his jacket tighter around himself as the coldness bit at his skin. Hermione's warming charm had definitely worn off now. Sirius was talking in the mirror, Harry knew, but he wasn't listening. He was perfectly aware of how he would be tortured with the Cruciatus, and other curses that inflicted pain without leaving physical marks. He was aware that the coldness down here wasn't completely natural, and that at some point he would deal with painful memories if the Dementors got too close. And he was frighteningly aware of the fact that even if he _did_ pull off another Priori Incantatem – and the odds of him managing that were small, as Voldemort would no doubt try his best to avoid it – there was still a good chance he wouldn't make it out of here alive.

"I love you," Harry blurted out suddenly. "I don't say that nearly enough. I really do, though, no matter that I've only known you just over a year."

"Harry -"

"Tell it to Moony, too. Make sure he knows it. And Sev," Harry continued. "And make sure they know I'm sorry for all the troubles I've caused, since Merlin knows I've made a lot of stupid mistakes, and -"

"HARRY!"

Abruptly, Harry shut up, sending the door a quick, fearful glance. He relaxed a little when no angry Death Eaters came barging in.

"You are _not_ going to die, so don't act like it!" Sirius said angrily, and Harry recoiled from the mirror.

"You don't know that," he shot back stubbornly.

"I do," Sirius said firmly. "Because I won't let you, Harry. I broke out of Azkaban for you. How many people can say that? I've done the impossible once, and rescuing you isn't even half as impossible as breaking out of Azkaban. I came for _you_, and I'm bloody well not going to give you up this soon!"

"Don't," Harry said thickly, trying to control his emotions. He rubbed furiously at his eyes when he felt himself tearing up. "Don't," he repeated. "I can't…"

"Can't what?" Sirius prodded wearily.

"Get my hopes up," he said simply. "Get emotional. I need to keep calm, if I want to have any chance at attempting to outsmart them."

"Harry, even under the best of circumstances, it's very hard to outsmart Voldemort."

"Sev does it," Harry said quietly. "And I meant the Death Eaters more than Voldemort, although if it comes to it… my Occlumency isn't perfect, but it's really gotten better recently. He can't read my mind outright, that gives me more of a chance than most people. And none of them know about my wandless magic talent."

"Fat chance of that helping, if they – rough – you up, first."

"It's better than nothing," Harry reminded him, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Suddenly, he heard voices approaching. "They're coming," Harry whispered, barely glancing at Sirius before tapping the mirror lightly with his finger, focusing his wandless magic into it, closing the connection, and shoving it into his pocket just before the door opened.

.

It felt like hours later before Harry was left alone again, panting heavily as he lay sprawled on the floor. The damn mirror had been vibrating almost constantly in his pocket the whole time, and at one point he'd almost been tempted to grab it and throw it across the room to shatter it. He'd quickly quashed that thought, though; even through the Cruciatus curse he'd been aware that losing the mirror was a bad idea. Groaning at the pain that moving caused, Harry reached into his pocket to pull out the mirror, balancing it against the wall beside him so that Sirius would be able to see his face even if he remained lying down. Remus was there, too, gazing at Harry with undisguised worry.

"Bloody hell, kiddo!" Sirius exclaimed. "I've been so worried – I've been trying to get you for ages – did they hurt you?"

"Mm," Harry nodded.

"Did they only just leave?" Sirius demanded.

"Yeah," Harry said thickly. He twisted his body slightly, trying to get more comfortable. "How long ago did they come?"

"Almost two hours," Remus answered him, looking very pale.

"Is… Severus…?"

"He's at a Death Eater meeting just now," Sirius answered quickly. "Hopefully he'll find out what that sick bastard wants with you."

"Is it really so hard to guess what he wants?" Harry asked, smiling wryly. "Same thing he's always wanted. My death."

"You don't know that -" Sirius started, but Harry brushed him off.

"Come on, Padfoot," Harry said impatiently. "You're smarter than that."

"There's still the possibility of him wanting something else, other than your death," Remus said to him in that gentle voice of his.

"Well, we'll find out soon enough," Harry told them, grasping his head as a sharp pain flared up in his scar.

"Harry?" his guardians asked him worriedly.

"He's excited," Harry murmured, letting his hand fall away from his scar. Why did he feel so exhausted?

"What did they do to you, Harry?" Sirius asked, looking as though he really didn't want to know.

"Dunno," Harry said, wincing as he tried to shrug. "Cruciatus, anyway. Some other spells I didn't recognise. They quizzed me."

"About?" Remus prodded, sensing Harry didn't want to talk about the torture.

"The Order. Wanted to know if I knew any of it's plans." Harry paused. "They wanted to know if I knew any spies, too. Didn't tell them, obviously. And…"

"And?" Sirius asked.

"Something about a prophecy," Harry said slowly. He closed his eyes, scrunching up his face in concentration. He'd been so busy trying not to feel the pain that he hadn't paid as much attention as he probably should have. "Something about me and Voldemort. They didn't seem to believe that I didn't know anything about it."

Although, they were right, in a way. There was the prophecy that he had seen in Severus's mind, which he strongly suspected to be the one that the Death Eaters wanted to know about, but he'd never found _proof_ it was about him. Actually, until today, he'd pretty much managed to forget about it.

"Sorry to cut our chat short," Harry said, pulling himself from his thoughts. "But really, I'm struggling to keep awake here."

"Don't close the connection," Sirius told him. "Let us keep an eye on you…"

"No," Harry said, reaching out for the mirror. "If they come back while I'm out of it, they'll see the mirror and take it. I'm not taking chances. It's staying hidden while I can't keep an eye on it."

Without waiting for an answer, Harry closed the connection for the second time that day, shoved the mirror roughly back into his pocket, and finally sunk into blissful unawareness.

.

Far, far too soon, Harry found himself being shaken awake. He groaned, pulling away from the figure and pushing himself into a sitting position before realising he wasn't in as much pain as he was. Confused, he opened his eyes, and found himself gazing into the eyes of none other than Severus Snape.

"I've healed you as best as I can without arousing the suspicion of the Dark Lord," Severus told him in a _very_ quiet tone, pulling him into a standing position. "Keep this in your pocket," he continued, pushing a small package into Harry's jacket pocket. "That's instructions for how to get back. He isn't killing you, he's sending you away."

"What?" Harry asked, blinking groggily, still trying to wake himself up.

"No time," Severus shook his head. "Summon your wand before it's too late, if you can. And Occlude your mind, he can't know that you're aware of his plan."

"What plan?" Harry asked slowly, shaking his head. Severus shook his head, not saying a word, and as pain started creeping into Harry's scar, he quickly brought up the strong Occlumency shield he could. He dug his nails into his hands as they walked, desperately trying to spark some awareness into him. He couldn't face Voldemort like this, half-asleep. He _had_ to be alert! Sending him away? What had Severus meant by that? Sending him _where_? Why would he need instructions on how to get back? Severus knew he could Apparate… unless it was somewhere that was charmed and warded and – but if that was true, did he really expect Harry to have the talent to break free, even _with_ instructions? It wasn't like Severus to over-estimate him like that…

"Harry!" a panicked voice called out as Severus led him into a much larger room. He was pushed roughly towards the center, where Hermione, Ron, Cho and Cedric all stood, huddled together. They were completely ignoring the Death Eaters surrounding them, and the presence of Lord Voldemort, sitting at the front of the room.

"Are you hurt?" Harry asked them quietly, allowing Hermione to cling onto his arm.

"We're alive," Cedric said darkly, and Harry nodded.

"Cover them," a high, cold voice commanded, and Harry flinched as he was suddenly drenched in a cold, foul-smelling potion.

"What are they doing?" Hermione asked, her eyes round with fear. Nobody replied, and they backed together as Voldemort started chanting in Latin. Harry could feel warmth in his body, building, and a glowing… he was glowing… they were all glowing. _What_ was going on?

"We have to get out of here!" Cedric hissed.

"There's five of us," Harry hissed back. "And more than a hundred of them. Plus Voldemort. You think we can _escape_?"

"So you're just going to stand there and accept your death?"

"He isn't killing us," Harry murmured softly, and his friends all stared at him. Closing his eyes, Harry reached out with his mind, tentatively brushing against Voldemort's. The wizard was too busy focusing on the spell he was chanting to notice Harry's weak, subtle entrance, and Harry gasped. "He's sending us to an _alternate reality!_" he whispered furiously.

"_What_?" Cedric demanded.

"They don't exist," Hermione said uncertainly.

"Apparently they do," Harry murmured quietly, silencing her with a look.

_ Summon your wand before it's too late_, a voice floated across his mind, and Harry barely held back a jump of fright. Was that his mind reminding him, or had Severus just entered his mind with Legilimency? But that would be too risky… and, besides, if Severus _had_ just used Legilimency, it meant his Occlumency shields didn't have a hope in hell of defending him against Voldemort. But then, what about the serious lack of visions recently? _Concentrate, Harry!_

"_Accio_ wands!" Harry gasped out, sighing in relief when his outstretched hand closed around five wands. The glow surrounding them was almost blinding now, and he had barely slipped the wands into his pocket before the glow disappeared and everything turned black.

* * *

And here we go, chapter 13! Finally, things are getting interesting!

I'm away on holiday tomorrow (woo!) and although that'll be fun, it does unfortunately mean five days of no writing. However, chapter 14 is already written as is half of chapter 15 so I think we'll survive. Sorry about the mean cliffhanger, but...

Anyway, I don't suppose any of you are into Wrock? (Wizard Rock). I've recently got into it (and I still feel incredibly dorky for it) and I'm looking for song suggestions. Most of my favourites at the moment are by the band 'Ministry of Magic' so, yeah. I need some from other bands, I think.

Let me know what you think of the chapter! Reviews make my day (:


	15. When Worlds Collide

**HP Year 5: Let the War Begin  
**_Chapter 14_

_

* * *

_

Parallel versions of Harry, Ron, Cedric, Cho and Hermione will have astericks (*) after their name when neccessary to avoid confusion as to who's doing what.

* * *

"Harry?" a voice was saying his name, and someone was shaking him.

"Harry, come on, mate! Wake up!" a different voice called out desperately. Groaning at the noises, and the pain in his body, Harry opened his eyes. It didn't take long for memories to flood back, and he sat up quickly, ignoring the dizziness that instantly took over his body. Ignoring the others, he felt around in his pockets, and sighed in relief when he felt the small package that Severus had gave him, still in his pocket.

"Here," Harry said, pulling the wands out of his pocket and handing each to its owner. "I'm guessing it worked, then."

"Well, we haven't checked," Ron told him. "But, we're not surrounded by Death Eaters, so…"

"We need to get to Hogwarts," Harry told them, accepting Cedric's hand as the older boy pulled him up. "If it still exists here…" He frowned in consideration.

"It will," Cho said. "Won't it?"

"I hope so," Ron said nervously. "Otherwise, what the hell are we going to do?"

"But alternate realities aren't supposed to exist," Hermione argued. Harry ignored her, turning to Cedric.

"Cedric," Harry said, gaining the young Auror's attention. "You can Apparate, can't you?"

"Yeah," Cedric said slowly. "But should we really be Apparating in our condition?"

"We don't have much choice," Harry said grimly. "This is the same building we were kept in, so it's the Death Eaters lair. It's not going to be anywhere near any towns or anything, they always pick places that are hidden away. Only way to get anywhere from here is a very long walk, or Apparition."

"Take Hermione and Ron first," Cho spoke up. "I'll wait here."

"I'll come back quick," Cedric promised her, turning to hold out his arm to Ron. Harry did the same for Hermione, waiting until she had a tight grip, before turning on the spot and disappearing with a _crack!_

.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief when the four of them appeared in Hogsmeade without splinching, and checked out their surroundings whilst Cedric disappeared to fetch Cho. It looked the same as their own, at least, and he could see a castle in the distance.

"Hogwarts still exists then," he said, just as Cedric reappeared with Cho.

"Who do you reckon is Headmaster?" Ron asked as the five of them set off towards the castle. "Dumbledore still?"

"Could be anyone," Hermione replied when nobody else did. She had apparently decided to accept the fact that they were indeed in another world, at least for now, and was trying to think logically about it, despite how little she knew. "It's a completely new reality… we're lucky it's even similar enough to _have_ a Hogwarts."

"Don't all realities have things in common, though?" Cedric argued back. "Similar people, similar places. Yeah, some people might be alive or dead here that are the opposite back home, and this Hogwarts could even be a school that focuses on the Dark Arts – but there _are_ supposed to be similarities between different realities."

"Well, honestly, I've never really looked into it," Hermione admitted as they passed The Three Broomsticks. "Travelling between them is supposed to be impossible – their _existence_ is supposed to be impossible - so I never saw a reason to. It just seems so far-fetched..."

"Finally, something Hermione _doesn't_ know about," Cho teased. "Although, I'll admit, it would be really useful to have someone here who _did_ know something about them. I feel so…"

"Vulnerable?" Cedric suggested.

"I'd agree with that," Harry agreed. "We're in a world we know nothing about. We're at a complete disadvantage."

"Should we even be going to Hogwarts, then?" Ron asked doubtfully. "If we know nothing about it…"

"Well, we have to go _somewhere_," Harry said slowly. "And it's hard not to think of Hogwarts as a safe place to go, with a big library and professors that could help us."

"That's _if_ they even believe our story," Cedric reminded him.

"Yeah, they might think we're Death Eaters – or whatever this reality's equivalent of them are – or something."

"So I'll take Veritaserum," Harry shrugged.

"That's illegal," Hermione said sharply.

"Might not be here," Harry reminded her. "And, even if it is, I don't care. If Hogwarts is safe, we _need_ to be believed. Severus slipped me something before we were sent here, instructions on how to get back. He looked guilty about it too, so you know that potion he's been slaving over? I think that's part of it. And it'll be seriously powerful magic. If we want to get back to our _own_ world, we _need_ Hogwarts staff – or the Ministry, or _something_ – on our side. We can't do potions and spells like that."

"I suppose so," Hermione relented as they reached the castle. It looked the same as their own school, at least, and that was vaguely reassuring.

.

The hallways were empty as the group traipsed their way to the Headmaster's office, and Harry was surprised when the stone gargoyle jumped aside for them, not even requiring a password.

"Wonder why that is," he mused, as they started their way up the steps. "Surely it doesn't just let everyone in like that… it wouldn't be safe…"

"Maybe it's charmed to always allow entry for one of our parallel selves?" Cho suggested.

"That would make sense," Hermione agreed as Harry lifted his hand to knock on the door. He froze when a voice called for them to enter; that certainly wasn't Dumbledore's voice. Ron prodded him, and Harry slowly opened the door, to reveal a wizard he didn't recognise.

"Who are you?" the wizard, this Hogwart's Headmaster, asked as they entered. The man didn't stand, didn't raise his wand, didn't make any move to attack them, and Harry took that as a good sign – or, at least, a sign that the man didn't find them threatening.

"I'm… Harry Potter, sir," Harry said slowly, walking towards the man. His friends followed slowly behind. "These are my friends… Cedric Diggory, Cho Chang, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger."

"If you are indeed Harry Potter, young man," said the Headmaster, sitting up straighter to peer over his desk at them, "then why is there currently _another_ Harry Potter sitting in the Great Hall right now, eating lunch with _his_ friends?"

"Why haven't you attacked us yet?" Harry asked warily. "You know we're not the students you know."

"My gargoyle let you in," the Headmaster answered simply. "Whilst you are not who you say you are, you also mean me no harm."

"I _am_ who I say I am, sir," Harry quickly answered. He wanted to turn around and glare at his friends for making him do all the talking; really, why wasn't Hermione or Cedric speaking up? They were better at this sort of thing than he was. "We're from…"

"Yes?" the Headmaster prodded.

"Do you believe in… in alternate universes, sir?" Harry asked tentatively. That got the man's attention. He stood up, walking around his desk to stand directly in front of the group.

"Travelling between them is impossible," the wizard said slowly.

"We thought so, too, sir," Harry assured the man. "There's a Dark wizard where we're from, a wizard called Voldemort. He came up with the means… or, tricked experts into helping him. I don't really know how he did it. But he sent us here, sir, to get rid of us. I'm willing to testify under Veritaserum," he added, when the older wizard still looked doubtful. "Please. I don't know if it's illegal here too, but… we really need Hogwarts on our side, sir."

"As it is, using Veritaserum on a minor is not illegal so long as they consent to it," the Headmaster said, clearly thinking deeply about the idea. Then, ignoring the group of students – and Auror-in-training – the Headmaster turned his back and walked over to his fireplace. Harry couldn't hear what the man said, but he felt himself pale considerably when three people then stepped forward into the office. One, a man he did not recognise, who was holding bottles of clear liquid – the Veritaserum – and the other two, people who he had only ever seen photos of.

His parents.

"Breathe, Harry," Hermione said gently, placing her hand on his shoulder. He nodded, trying to control himself even as the two people who he thought he'd never see regarded him with angry, suspicious expressions. Seats suddenly appeared in front of him, and Harry and his friends sat slowly in them, facing the four adults. The man he didn't recognise who had stepped through the fireplace stepped forward and handed Harry one of the bottles, then handed out the rest to Hermione, Ron, Cho and Cedric. After glancing at each other, the five friends downed the clear liquids, and Harry soon found a fuzzy feeling taking over his mind.

"Who is your spokesperson?" the Headmaster asked. When nobody spoke up, Harry sighed. Why him? Hermione and Cedric would be able to explain things much better. Harry just felt awkward.

"Me, I suppose, sir," he answered.

"And what is your name, then?"

"Harry James Potter, sir," Harry told him, ignoring the now confused looks on his parents faces.

"Who are your friends?"

"Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, Cho Chang and Cedric Diggory, sir," Harry answered.

"Where are you from?"

"An alternate reality, sir."

"How did you get here?"

"We were sent by Lord Voldemort, sir. After failing several times now to kill me, he thought he would have better luck simply sending me away."

"Who is Lord Voldemort?"

"A dark wizard, sir," Harry answered. "He died, when I was a baby sir, but was resurrected at the end of last year."

"You said he had tried to kill you several times?"

"Four times, sir."

"Why does he want you dead?"

"Because I killed him when I was a baby, sir."

"You killed him as a _baby_?" Lily cried out. "Does that mean-?" but the Headmaster held up a hand, not letting Lily finish her question.

"He was after me, for a reason I don't know," Harry explained, the Veritaserum forcing him to explain. "He killed my parents. My mother died protecting me, and because of her sacrifice, I was given a protection in my blood… it forced Voldemort's killing curse to rebound on him, sir."

"We're dead, in your world?" Lily Potter asked, and when Harry looked at her, she saw she had a very white face. _At least they believe me._

"Yes," Harry answered.

"Who were you brought up with?" James Potter asked.

"Petunia and Vernon Dursley," Harry answered, his voice full of hatred.

"How were you sent here?" the Headmaster asked, cutting across them. At the glares James and Lily Potter sent him, he apologised to them. "I'm sorry, but the Veritaserum will only last for half an hour. I have to make sure they're trustworthy before it wears off. You can talk to them after that."

"We were covered in a potion, and then some spell was cast on us," Harry answered uneasily, wishing he had more accurate details to give them and feeling foolish with his vague description. "I have instructions, though. Severus slipped them to me before we were sent here, in the hopes that someone here could help us get back."

"Severus _Snape_?" blurted the man who'd brought the Veritaserum.

"Yes, sir," Harry answered, confused. Why did the man sound upset?

"He is a Dark wizard here," the Headmaster explained, noticing Harry's confusion. "A Death Eater. A follower of Albus Dumbledore."

"No!" Harry and his friends all gasped at once, and the four adults looked at them confused.

"Professor Dumbledore… he can't be a dark wizard," Hermione said softly, speaking up for the first time.

"He's _good_ in your world?" James Potter asked, surprised.

"He's our Headmaster," Harry answered them. "He's the leader of the Order of the Phoenix. The only wizard that Voldemort ever feared."

"This Lord Voldemort," the headmaster said slowly. "That is just a nickname, correct?"

"Yeah, his real name is Tom Riddle, sir," Harry answered.

"But that's… that's _your_ name, Tom," Lily said, gazing at the Headmaster.

"You're _Voldemort_?" Ron gasped out.

"It was a childhood nickname of mine," the Headmaster nodded. "However, I am most certainly not the same as _your_ Tom Riddle. I'm not Dark, for one."

"The serum is going to start wearing off soon, Tom," warned the wizard that Harry didn't recognise.

"That's fine," Headmaster Riddle said shortly. "I trust them. They're definitely who they say they are, and they aren't Dark. Now," he said, turning his attention back to Harry. "You all look injured. What happened?"

"We were held captive for a few days before coming here, sir," Harry admitted, seeing no reason to lie even though he could feel the serum wearing off even as he spoke. "They roughed us up a bit, making sure we were incapable of trying to escape."

"Roughed up how, exactly?" Lily asked, gazing at them all with concern.

"Beatings. Cruciatus curse. Normal torture stuff," Harry shrugged. He knew the others hadn't been roughed up as badly as he had.

"How can you _shrug_ at that?" Lily asked, aghast. "Tom, they need medical attention!"

"I know, my dear," Tom patted her shoulder. "We'll take them to the Hospital Wing ourselves, shall we?"

.

The walk to the Hospital Wing didn't take long, and Harry was relieved to find Madam Pomfrey was still the Healer here.

"These, Poppy," Tom informed her when she gazed at them suspiciously, motioning for the five younger people to settle themselves onto beds, "are students from another reality. I have questioned them under Veritaserum, and I promise you, they pose no threat. They are merely parallels of the students you know. They were tortured before being sent here, I trust you can heal them?"

"Certainly, Tom," Poppy assured him, turning to her new patients with a hesitant smile.

"I shall have to talk to the Minister," Headmaster Riddle said, turning to face James and Lily. "We cannot simply lock them up; people are going to see them and wonder."

"Is it safe, letting the world know we have visitors from another reality?" Lily asked doubtfully.

"If we can keep Mr. Longbottom safe, I'm sure we can keep this lot safe. Especially if this young Mr. Potter has indeed managed to avoid death four times."

"Just because he's been lucky in the past, doesn't mean we should tempt fate now, Tom," Lily snapped. Harry would have felt warm and fuzzy at this Lily, who didn't even know him, but who was definitely his mother, defending him, but as it was, he was struggling to even keep his eyes open thanks to the potions that Madam Pomfrey had just made him drink.

"It will be risky, yes," the Headmaster admitted, his voice starting to fade out. "But we will keep an eye on them, Lily. This cannot be kept a secret."

If Lily replied, Harry didn't hear it, as he sank gratefully into unconsciousness.

.

When he awoke, Harry was pleased to find most of his pain gone. A quiet buzzing reached his ears, and he opened his eyes to find Ron and Hermione sitting on his bed, talking quietly. Another group of people were sitting on a bed on the opposite site of the room – Headmaster Riddle, Lily and James Potter, what looked like a taller, slightly more fleshy version of himself, Neville Longbottom, and…

"_Wormtail_?" Harry asked in disgust. That was all the warning Ron and Hermione got before Harry, not quite properly awake yet, pounced off his bed towards the rat who had betrayed his parents.

"Harry, no!" Hermione screamed at him, alerting all the adults who glanced over in time to find Ron launching himself on top of Harry, sending them both crashing to the floor.

"It's not him, mate!" Ron yelled at him, trying to keep Harry on the ground. "Cedric!" Ron cried out.

"Harry, stop struggling, for crying out loud!" Hermione shouted even as Cedric helped Ron to pull up Harry and sit the still-struggling teen on his bed.

"You have _five seconds_ to calm yourself before I put you in a body-bind!" Cho threatened, appearing out of nowhere, and Harry ceased struggling instantly.

"A body-bind wouldn't stop me," Harry told her darkly, even as he clenched his fists at his side, trying to control his anger.

"He never betrayed them here, Harry," Hermione said softly as the four adults and alternate Harry and Neville moved towards them. "He's different here."

"So _you're_ the Boy Who Lived?" Neville sneered, cutting across their conversation. Harry blinked at him. Neville, sneering?

"Yeah, so?" Harry replied coolly.

"_I'm_ the Boy Who Lived," Neville hissed dangerously. "And you don't look much like a fighter."

A burst of laughter erupted out of Harry's friends, though Harry, still angry, didn't see what was so funny.

"Don't underestimate him, mate," Ron chuckled. "He whooped Voldemort's backside when he was eleven, a basilisk when he was twelve-"

"Over a hundred Dementors when he was thirteen," Hermione continued, smiling at Harry, for once not seeming to care that he ought not to brag – not that _he_ was bragging, anyway.

"Competed in a tournament last year with tasks designed for people three years older than him, and _still_ got better scores than them all," Cho continued, grinning.

"And then faced off with Voldemort after the bastard was resurrected," Cedric finished, chuckling at the faces of the adults surrounding them.

"I may not _look_ like a fighter," Harry said sweetly to Neville, burrowing his anger behind his Occlumency shields for the moment, "but that's just another advantage to me, being underestimated." The boy looked angry now, and Harry decided that he didn't like this world's Neville, not at all.

"You just watch your back, Potter!" Neville hissed, before stalking out of the room.

"Cocky git, that Neville," Ron commented. "Wish our Neville was here."

"Yeah, they're such polar opposites, it'd be funny to see," Cho agreed.

"It would seem we have much to talk about," Riddle said eventually. "There seem to be many differences between our worlds, and I am very curious to see what they are."

"What happened here, sir?" Harry asked. "To make… _Neville_ the Boy Who Lived?"

"On Halloween, fourteen years ago, his parents were killed, just like yours," Riddle told him. "And just as happened with you, the killing curse rebounded upon Albus Dumbledore."

"How did Vold – Dumbledore get him?" Harry asked. "I mean, for me… we had a Secret Keeper, who betrayed us."

"Alice and Frank Longbottom were foolish enough to let their guard down that night," Riddle told them sombrely. "They decided to take a small walk around the village, to let their toddler see all the Halloween decorations."

"Is he always such a cocky git, sir?" Ron asked. "Or is he just scared Harry's going to steal the spotlight?"

"We can't speak ill of our students," Lily Potter answered for Riddle. "However, let's just say that that was Longbottom on a _good_ day."

"Merlin," Ron grumbled.

"He's like Malfoy, don't you think?" Harry smirked. "Only… in Gryffindor…"

"What's your Neville like?" Harry* asked. Harry glanced at his other self, taking note of the differences. He wore the same round glasses as Harry, and had the same dark messy hair and bright green eyes. He was definitely a bit meatier, though, and taller. Since he hadn't had ten years at the Dursleys to stunt his growth, Harry supposed.

"Brave and loyal," Cho answered for them.

"One of our best mates," Ron nodded, agreeing.

.

"So, Harry," Riddle said, conjuring chairs so that the adults – and Harry* - could sit, rather than having to stand. "Who was the Secret Keeper that betrayed you?"

"Wormtail, sir," Harry answered in as calm a voice as possible, not daring to look at the Peter Pettigrew that was sitting so near him.

"Why were you brought up by the Dursleys?" Lily asked, sensing that Harry needed a change of topic. "Why not Sirius or Remus? Sirius is still your Godfather there, isn't he?"

"Sirius was framed by Peter Pettigrew and spent twelve years in Azkaban," Harry explained bitterly. "He broke out, though. Moony was teaching at Hogwarts that year – Dumbledore hired him after Sirius broke out, since everyone thought he was after me – and at the end of the year, we all ended up in the Shrieking Shack. We got Wormtail – Sirius and Remus recognised him, he had been pretending to be Ron's pet rat for years – and managed to get Sirius freed. And before that, Moony couldn't take me because of the ridiculous rules our Ministry has against werewolves."

"He lives with them now, though," Ron offered. "After they got Sirius freed. Harry moved in with him and Remus, and Tonks."

"What happened to me?" Pettigrew asked. Harry chewed on the inside of his cheek, reminding himself that this was _not_ the Wormtail that had so heartlessly betrayed his parents.

"You escaped from the Ministry," Harry said after a moment. "You returned to Voldemort. It was basically thanks to your other self he that Voldemort was able to be resurrected."

"Merlin, I see why you wanted to attack me," Pettigrew chuckled slightly. Harry just stared at him.

"So you lot, you're all friends?" James Potter asked, and they all nodded. "Neville controls Gryffindor here," James continued. "Weasley's his best friend, and Dean and Seamus follow him around a lot as well."

"But not you?" Harry asked, directing the question at Harry*.

"He's a jerk," Harry* shrugged. "Whole lot of them are. I have to train with Longbottom sometimes, but otherwise I avoid him."

"Who _are_ your friends here, then?" Hermione asked curiously.

"You," Harry* smiled. "And Ginny Weasley, the older Weasley twins, and Luna Lovegood. Oh, and Malfoy."

"Malfoy!" Ron exclaimed, looking disgusted. "How could anyone be friends with that little snake?"

"Snake?" Harry* asked.

"Slytherin," Cedric explained.

"He's not a Slytherin, though," Lily told them. "He's a Hufflepuff."

"A _Hufflepuff_?" Harry asked disbelievingly. "We have a… a _nice_ Malfoy, and a Neville who's a prat… a _Dark_ Dumbledore…"

"It's not our world," Hermione reminded him.

"That much is obvious," Harry chuckled humourlessly.

.

The four adults and Harry* left soon after, saying they had other business to attend to, leaving Harry and his friends alone in the Hospital Wing.

"You'd think I'd be shocked," Harry mused when the door swung shut. "Seeing them… my dead parents."

"You were given a strong calming draught before you woke up," Cedric told him, then started laughing. "Did you get a proper look at the adults faces when you leapt at Pettigrew?"

"I was too busy looking at Wormtail," Harry said, shaking his head.

"They were so _shocked_," Cho chuckled. "That even through such a powerful calming draught, you were able to feel that much anger." Harry shrugged, thinking about his parents. They hadn't spoken much, but Harry hadn't been able to keep his eyes off of them… Lily, just as beautiful as he had ever imagined. She was starting to get small wrinkles, he had noticed, but they weren't so bad, and they only made her look even kinder. His father… he had looked tall, strong. A fighter. Someone who couldn't be intimidated easily, someone who looked after himself. He, too, had the small, round glasses, and had the beginnings of wrinkles.

"I can't believe Neville's a jerk here," Cho shook her head.

"I think he let the fame get to his head," Cedric told her. "Thank Merlin you didn't, Harry."

"I'd rather die than act like that," Harry said bluntly. "That's just way too much like Malfoy. You reckon he'll try and hex us like Malfoy does?"

"Doesn't hurt to be cautious," Cedric shrugged.

"I want to find out more," Hermione spoke up. "About history, here. We know he has the same scar as you, Harry, and that the killing curse failed on him, too, but…"

"That's it," Harry finished. "That's all we know. He looked intimidated when you lot started brining up all the stuff I've done – I'm thinking his last four years have been different from mine."

"Their Dark Lord was still resurrected somehow, though," Cho reminded him. "Do you think they could have had the tournament too?"

"Or they could've just kidnapped him," Ron said thoughtfully.

"That's what I want to find out," Hermione told them. "When we get out, later today, I'm going to the library. I'm hoping they have books on alternate realities too, so we're at less of a disadvantage here…"

"And I'm going to poke about the school," Harry decided. "I want to know who all the Professors are here, and see who's friends with who. And who else has switched houses."

"Is it wise to split up?" Cho asked.

"It's Hogwarts," Harry shrugged. "We should be safe enough. But…"

"We'll go with her," Cho said brightly, and Cedric nodded. "Then you and Ron can look about."

"Sounds good to me," Ron shrugged when Harry turned to him.

.

Luckily, Madam Pomfrey didn't keep them in the Hospital Wing for long, and when they got out they found it wasn't even dinner time yet.

"Well, we did sleep for a day," Hermione shrugged when Harry remarked on how amazing it was to be out so fast. "The potions did their work while we slept. It's not she only kept us for an hour."

"We slept for a _day_?" Harry asked. "I… wow, I didn't even notice."

"Are we meeting in the Great Hall for dinner, or the kitchens?" Cedric asked as they reached the library.

"Great Hall, please!" Cho said brightly. "I want to see everyone's faces!" Harry and Ron shrugged their agreements.

"See you in a few hours then," Hermione said brightly, leading the way into the library. "Be careful," she warned Harry and Ron over her shoulder.

"Always are," the two chorused together before walking away from the library.

"How is it," Ron started as they walked down an empty corridor, "that you can face Riddle just fine, but you pounce on Pettigrew the first time you see him?"

"Because Riddle doesn't look like Voldemort," Harry told him. "Yeah, he resembles that teenage Riddle I met in the Chamber of Secrets, I guess, but not so much. Pettigrew… you know, I'm going to have to work really hard to say that name in a normal tone. Pettigrew looks just like _our_ Wormtail. It's harder to see him as a different person. And we have no proof that he's different here!" he burst out angrily. "All we know is he didn't betray _this_ world's Lily and James to Voldemort. That doesn't mean he was never a spy! Just that nothing happened to catch him at it!"

"I dunno, mate," Ron said doubtfully. "I'm all for hating Wormtail. But that Pettigrew, you didn't see how he was before you woke up and jumped at him. He just doesn't seem like a bad guy."

"That's why he was a _spy_," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Think of Sev. How much of a bloody good actor must he be to fool Voldemort?"

"That's different."

"Yeah, maybe," Harry agreed. "But still, just because he _seems_ nice, doesn't mean he _is_ nice." Harry sighed. "If you're worried I'm going to kill him, I'm not. I just can't get the idea out of my head that he's still a two-faced rat who hasn't been caught out."

"Well, we can keep an eye on him," Ron suggested as they approached the Great Hall, standing outside it reluctantly. "See if we see him doing anything suspicious."

"Suppose there isn't much else we _could_ do," Harry said regretfully. "Reckon Dum–er, Riddle's told the students about us yet?"

"Even if he hasn't, I'll bet that prat Longbottom has," Ron muttered.

"I really can't believe that," Harry chuckled, shaking his head as he led them into the Great Hall. "I suppose that means they know, anyway," he said lightly as all the students stopped their chattering and stared at him and Ron. "C'mon," he muttered, pulling a now red-faced Ron towards the Gryffindor table. He spared a glance at the staff table, and was surprised to see both his parents sitting there. _His parents_. It sounded so odd to say that… and he was sure, had he not still been under the influence of a calming draught, he'd probably have fainted by now, or done something equally embarrassing.

"Your parents are teachers?" Ron asked, surprised, as he helped himself to food, ignoring the staring students around them.

"Apparently," Harry nodded, gazing at the rest of the staff. "McGonagall is still here," he told Ron. "Snape's gone – can you believe he's Dark here?"

"Well, you know, he was for a bit, even back home," Ron said uncomfortably, apparently not as good at ignoring staring students as Harry was. "Is it really safe to talk about stuff here?" Ron asked, motioning at the eavesdropping students – a few who looked confused at them discussing Snape.

"It's not like messing with time," Harry shrugged. "I don't see what harm it could do. I suppose you're right about Sev, though."

"Flitwick's gone, too," Ron said, surprised, as he joined Harry at analyzing the staff table. "Who teaches Charms, then?"

"And, for that matter, who teaches potions, since Severus isn't here?" Harry asked.

"Professor Potter teaches Charms," said a nearby fourth year girl who had been listening to their conversation. She wasn't anyone Harry recognised, and he wondered if she was in another House back home, or if she simply hadn't even been born. "That is, Mrs. Potter," she said after a moment. "Mr Potter teaches Defence. And Professor Slughorn – he's the one beside Professor McGonagall – teaches Potions."

"Thanks," Harry told the girl, giving her a warm smile. She blushed slightly, nodded, then turned back to her friends. "Makes sense," he said, turning back to Ron. "I mean, it was Professor… Slughorn – weird name, that – who gave us the Veritaserum. Hmm, Hagrid's there, so I guess he teaches Care of Magical Creatures still…"

"Trelawney's not there, but the old bat never comes to the Great Hall anyway," Ron said. "Professor Sprout's there… and so are those weird teachers that teach Arithmancy, and Muggle Studies."

"Are you really from another world?" an excited voice asked, and Harry turned to find himself facing Colin Creevey.

"Yeah, Colin, we are," Harry nodded after a moment.

"You know my name!" the younger student said excitedly.

"You used to be his own personal stalker," Ron told him, chuckling. Harry was aware of students around them sharing bemused looks with each other.

"Personal stalker?" Colin asked, confused.

"You followed me around and took a lot of photos," Harry explained, sighing. "Thanks, Ron."

"Are you really the Boy-Who-Lived in your world?" Seamus suddenly asked, appearing out of nowhere. Dean was standing beside him, but Neville was nowhere to be seen.

"Yes," Harry told them, keeping his voice carefully neutral.

"Does that make you a jerk like Neville?" asked a seventh-year that Harry didn't recognise, and Harry couldn't help the laughter that escaped his mouth.

"Merlin, no," he assured the girl. "We've already had the pleasure of meeting your Longbottom. The day I act as bigheaded as him is the day that hell freezes over."

"Are you aware of who you're insulting, Potter?" Seamus asked snidely.

"Perfectly aware, yeah," Harry shrugged. "Longbottom doesn't scare me."

"You should be careful of what you say about Neville," a little second-year boy told him. "He can make your life hell if he decides he doesn't like you."

"I've faced worse than an angry fifteen-year old before," Harry shrugged.

"Is that so, Potter?" a cool voice asked, and Harry looked up to see Neville had arrived. Sighing, Harry irritably placed his cutlery down on his plate and folded his arms.

"Did you want something, Longbottom?" he asked, easily matching the other's cool tone.

"I was hoping you would ask that," Neville said with a nasty smile. "I want a duel."

.

And so, ten minutes later, Harry found himself standing by the lake, opposite Neville Longbottom, with a large crowd gathered round them. Students from all years and houses, his alternate self, and even his parents – _Not my parents_, Harry reminded himself, _this world's Harry's parents_ – had come to watch.

"Do you do this often, then?" Harry asked, gripping his wand lightly. "People gathered pretty quickly, so I'm assuming it's not an especially unusual event."

"Nobody's ever beaten me yet," Neville said proudly as the two bowed to each other.

"Really?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow as he effortlessly blocked a hex. "That's surprising. I've found that people with egos like yours are usually easy to beat. Or, wait, let me guess. You usually duel first years?" He knew he shouldn't try to get a rise out of Neville like this, but he was so similar to Malfoy that it was hard to resist.

"You don't know anything, Potter," Neville growled as he threw more hexes at Harry which he easily blocked.

"I know you're a pretty pathetic dueller," Harry told Neville, smiling. He wasn't lying. Hadn't Harry* said he trained with Neville? He was getting some pretty pathetic training if this was the best he could do. Crabbe and Goyle could probably beat him!

"I don't see you winning yet," Neville sneered.

"I'm having too much fun watching you dodge as all your hexes rebound on you," Harry shrugged. "I'm hoping you'll embarrass yourself further by knocking yourself out with one of your own spells."

"And you say _I've_ got an ego?" Neville asked, even as he seemed to realise Harry was right and stopped throwing hexes.

"I don't have an ego," Harry told Neville coolly. "I've just duelled too many people like you before. People who think they're all that, and who really have the duelling capabilities of second-years -"

"Harry, what's going on?" Hermione asked, appearing behind him with Cedric and Cho.

"You're friends with a _Mudblood_?" Neville sneered, and before Harry realised what he was doing, he had tied Neville up with 'Incarcerous' and pelted him with an over-powered Stinging hex.

"_Accio_ wand," Harry hissed, catching Neville's wand as it flew towards him. "Don't you _dare_ insult my friends like that in front of me," Harry thundered, before chucking Neville's wand back to him. "Do it again and you won't just get away with a Stinging hex."

"Yeah, and you won't just be dealing with Harry, either," Cho told the boy angrily.

"What the hell is that boy doing in Gryffindor?" Harry asked angrily, ignoring the gathered crowd as he walked away with his friends. "He's _worse_ than Draco bloody Malfoy! No Gryffindor should act like that!"

"He's still the Boy-Who-Lived," Hermione shrugged. "It'll take courage to face off with a Dark Lord."

"So he has _one_ trait, and that's _if_ he ever gets his head out his arse enough to actually fight Vold-er, Dumbledore."

"So, my dear godson-from-another-world," said a familiar voice, and Harry turned to find himself facing Sirius. This Sirius looked… different, he supposed. Less grey hair and wrinkles, less haunted eyes. _He never had to spend twelve years in Azkaban_. "Was it really such a great idea to piss off Longbottom on your first day here?"

"Why not?" Harry shrugged, turning around so that the group continued heading back to the castle. "He can't hurt me."

"He didn't put all his effort into that duel," Sirius told him.

"I didn't put _any_ effort into that duel," Harry shrugged.

"Harry's been getting training since second year," Ron spoke up. "He's fought Death Eaters. He can handle Longbottom."

"You didn't waste any time switching to surnames," Cedric remarked.

"He's not Neville," Ron shrugged. "He's a prat."

"Yeah, so using his surname makes it easier to remember," Harry agreed.

"I've got to go," Sirius said when they entered the castle. "But I was told to ask, Harry – and you lot, too, of course," Sirius added, glancing at his friends, "if you would join us tonight when we're training Longbottom."

"That depends," Harry said slowly. "Who's 'us'?"

"Me, Lily, Prongs, Moony, Wormtail, Tom, Harry and Longbottom."

"You guys up for it?" Harry asked, waiting for his friends to nod before turning back to Sirius. "Alright. Where?"

"Your dad's office. Eight o'clock."

"We'll be there," Harry assured him, before Sirius transformed into a dog and bounded away from them. "Wonder why I get it too?" he asked his friends, heading towards the corridor that would take them to the Headmaster's office.

"If you mean your other self, probably because it's mainly your family and the Marauders doing the training," Hermione told him. "It only makes sense that they would want to train you, too, even if you're not as big a target here."

"Why are we going to the Headmaster's office again?" Cho asked.

"I want to find out where we're staying while we're here," Harry told her.

"They've set up rooms for us," Cedric told him, and Harry stopped. "They thought it'd be best if we stuck together," Cedric explained. "McGonagall found us in the library. And because we're in different houses, they figured the easiest solution was to set up our own rooms, rather than putting us in with a house."

"Alright, know where they are?"

.

The rooms they'd been given were very similar to the Marauder quarters back home. There was a main room, with a nice big fire and comfy sofas around it, and doors that led to separate bedrooms. One for Harry, Ron and Cedric to share, and a smaller one for Hermione and Cho to share.

"Did you find anything out at the library, then?" Harry asked as they each settled themselves down in a chair.

"Neville was caught in public," Hermione told him. "They had a Secret Keeper too, but it was Halloween, and even as a baby he was getting spoiled. His parents took him out, wanting to show him all the Halloween decorations, and Voldemort and the Death Eaters caught them not far from their house. His dad was tortured to the point of insanity, and his mum sacrificed herself for Neville, just like your mum did for you."

"What happened to his dad?"

"He's in a permanent ward at St. Mungo's. He was brought up by his grandmother."

"He's really big into pulling stunts to get himself on the front page of the Daily Prophet," Cedric told him. "He likes to lord his fame over everyone."

"Sounds like Malfoy, all right," Ron grumbled.

"He really is like our Malfoy," Cho agreed.

"At least Malfoy wasn't put in Gryffindor, though," Harry said. "To know there's such a jerk in Gryffindor…"

"You can kick his ass tonight!" Ron said brightly. "When we go to the training."

"Just try not to act so full of yourself this time," Hermione warned. "We got there ages before I said anything to you. You sounded as bad as he did."

"Hey, if you can't beat them, join them," Harry shrugged. "That's how I deal with Malfoy; copying his pompousness. It annoys people like that, and makes them more likely to make a mistake. Not that I needed him to make a mistake, I suppose, although I wasn't expecting him to be so pathetic."

"It could have been an act," Cho suggested. "To make you underestimate him."

"Maybe," Harry shrugged. "But I still reckon I can handle him. Even if he _does_ turn out to be an amazing dueller, he still has that huge ego. And I'm telling you, being full of yourself like that causes you to make _lots_ of mistakes. Like the fact that he'll waste time taunting, rather than fighting – Voldemort does that, too."

"Voldemort can afford to," Cedric reminded him. "Nobody can match his skill except Dumbledore." Harry paused, wondering when Cedric had gotten over his aversion to Voldemort's name. More and more people seemed to be doing that, recently.

"Exactly," Harry said eventually. "But Neville -"

"What is it?" Hermione asked worriedly as Harry suddenly stopped. He shook her head at her, reaching into his robes pockets and pulling out the little vibrating mirror.

"Your three-way mirror," Cho said slowly. "But surely it can't work across worlds…"

"Sirius?" Harry asked, after tapping the mirror to accept the connection.

"It worked!" his godfather beamed. "Moony, get over here! It worked!"

"What worked?" Harry asked, confused. He could feel his friends gathering around him, watching the mirror with him.

"The potion that was used to send you there," Remus explained, appearing beside Sirius in the mirror. "Severus kept some.

"And when we dipped the mirror in it, it let us get through to you," Sirius beamed. "I hate to say it, but Snape is an actual bloody _genius_!"

"See, the potion only creates a connection between the two separate worlds," Remus explained. "You need the spell to actually send you there. Coating the mirror in the potion simply allows it to regain its connection with your mirror."

"Wouldn't Harry's mirror need the potion, too?" Hermione asked.

"It'll have gotten covered when we did," Harry realised, and Remus nodded his agreement.

"Are you all alright?" Remus asked, peering at Harry and his friends through the mirror.

"Madam Pomfrey patched us up," Cedric assured him.

"What's it like?" Sirius asked.

"Weird," Ron said, wrinkling up his nose. "Neville's a bigger prat than Malfoy, and _Malfoy_ is in Hufflepuff!"

"Tom Riddle is the Headmaster," Hermione joined in. "And Professor Dumbledore, he's the equivalent of Voldemort!"

"Dumbledore, evil?" Sirius asked sceptically.

"It's true," Ron jumped in. "And Neville's the Boy-Who-Lived!"

"Snape's evil," Cho told them. "He stayed with Dumbledore. I wonder who teaches Potions…?"

"Professor Slughorn," Ron told her. "A Gryffindor told us, when me and Harry went to the Great Hall. Everyone was eavesdropping."

"Wouldn't you, if it was the other way around?" Hermione asked.

"Well, yeah, I didn't say it was a bad thing they were eavesdropping!"

"You're being awfully quiet, Harry," Remus spoke up, stopping the explanations.

"You're peaky, too," Sirius commented.

"Is the calming draught wearing off?" Cho asked sympathetically.

"Why would he need a calming draught?" Sirius asked suspiciously.

"Because my parents are still alive, and Pettigrew is still a friend," Harry said, finding his voice again.

"Gave everyone a right bloody fright, when he woke up," Ron told Sirius and Remus. "Saw Pettigrew and just pounced off the bed at him."

"And that was _with_ a calming draught," Cho added.

"We're training with them tonight," Harry told his guardians, noticing that they, too, had paled. "The four Marauders… and mum, and Neville, and Riddle, and, well, me… he's taller than me, my other self. I'm jealous," Harry said, trying to lighten the mood. "I'll give them the mirror tonight," Harry continued. "If you want."

"As long as you get it back, afterwards," Sirius warned him. "We're talking tonight."

"Why does that sound like a bad thing?"

"Don't, Sirius," Remus warned. "The last thing he needs now is you getting him all worked up."

"Sirius, _what_ are you planning on talking to me about?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"It's nothing bad," Sirius said, sighing. "Just wait until tonight."

"You might want to ask Sev if he wants to borrow your mirror, after…" Harry suggested. "I mean, the mirror wouldn't even have a connection without him, and… he and my mum… I know they used to be friends… although, since he's evil here, she might not talk to him anyway, I suppose."

"I'll talk to him about it," Remus assured him.

.

At seven, Harry and his friends left to the Great Hall for dinner before going to train with Neville and Harry*. Once again, they were faced with uncomfortable staring and murmurs.

"Just ignore them," Harry reminded his friends again, leading them to the Gryffindor table.

"Easy for you to say," Cho swatted at him. "We're not used to it like you are."

"I can't believe someone is actually nutters enough to _enjoy_ being stared at," Ron told them, giving Neville a very pointed look.

"It's rather unnerving," Hermione agreed as the five squeezed themselves into the table. "But plenty of people _do_ enjoy it."

"Nutters," Ron said again, shaking his head before piling food onto his plate.

Dinner passed slowly, with Harry and his friends patiently answering never-ending questions from surrounding students. Neville was looking thunderous, apparently upset that his fans were now paying more attention to a Potter rather than himself. Getting annoyed at the constant glaring and mutterings from Neville, Harry finally flicked his wand at him, giving him blonde hair and pink robes. _Happy_ colours.

"Think you can be happy now?" Harry bit out as Neville's face slowly grew redder in anger.

"Undo it!" Neville commanded, after failing several times to cancel out the charms himself. All around them, students were starting to snicker at Neville, which only served to further anger him. "Fix it, _now_, Potter!" Neville hissed dangerously.

"Or you'll do what?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. "Dance around dodging your own curses again?"

"You really should stop that," Hermione told him after Neville had stormed from the room. "Do you want people to have a bad opinion of you?"

"Since when do I care what people think of me, 'Mione?" Harry asked her, taking a bite of his food. "Too many rumours get made up about me. I stopped caring a long time ago what anybody thinks of me."

"Yes, but you've never had your _parents_ around, have you?"

"They're not mine," Harry said quietly. "They're _this_ Harry's parents. Anyway," he said, glancing up at the staff table where James Potter was clearly struggling to hide his amusement, and Lily Potter looked torn between amusement and disapproval, "they don't seem to mind it. I don't think anyone, does, if this is how Neville always acts. They'll be glad for someone knocking him down a peg."

.

"That was brilliant, Harry!" James beamed when Harry and his friends turned up in his office for the training. Neville wasn't there yet, and Harry wondered if he had managed to change his hair and robes back to their normal colours yet.

"Don't encourage him, James," Lily chided her husband. "You shouldn't provoke him, Harry," she said, turning to him. Harry was especially grateful now that he had taken a second calming draught before coming here. "You may be able to defend yourself against him in a duel, but he has power – political power, and a tight group of friends within the castle."

"You worry too much, mum," said Harry*, who had just appeared in the room. "They won't be here forever, and I'm sure Riddle can keep them safe for the short amount of time that they _are_ here."

"_Professor_ Riddle, Harry," Lily corrected distractedly.

"Has he managed to fix it yet?" Ron asked the Harry who had just arrived.

"Nope," Harry* grinned. "Even Slughorn couldn't undo it. You'll have to teach me that, Harry."

"Sure," Harry agreed.

"Potter, undo this _now_," a voice growled, and Harry turned to find himself facing a _very_ angry Neville.

"What, no 'please'?" Harry shot back, turning away from Neville and walking further into the room. "Manners go a long way, you know."

"_Please_ undo this," Neville ground out sarcastically, and Harry grinned, turning Neville's hair and robes back to their correct colours with a quick wave of his wand.

"There now, see? If you'd only said _please_ to begin with, we could have had that sorted so much quicker! Oh, and…" Harry trailed off, turning to face his parents, and Sirius and Remus who had finally joined them. "There's… this mirror I've got. A two-way – well, three-way, now – mirror. Severus managed to make sure they all connected, even with me being in a different reality, and…"

"Your Sirius and Remus want to have a nice little chat with us?" Sirius suggested, grinning. "I want to see my other self!"

"I guess you know how to work it?" Harry asked, handing the mirror over to James.

"Yep," he nodded, tucking the mirror into his pocket. "I'll have one of the elves drop it back off to you tonight."

"What sort of training do you do back home?" Lily asked curiously, gazing at Harry and his friends.

"Er, well, we don't really train," Cho told her. "Cedric's training to be an Auror, but Harry's the only one who gets trained by Snape and Sirius and Remus."

"Alright," Lily nodded. "What about you then, Harry?"

"Err…" Harry shifted uncomfortably. "I do spell work with Severus, advanced stuff, and theory and spell work with Remus, and physical stuff with Sirius."

"Physical stuff?" James questioned.

"Yeah, Muggle fighting techniques," Harry explained, surprised that this Sirius didn't do that too. "Punching and dodging and finding pressure points. Although you can only take that training so far before you start seriously hurting each other, so we've been back to just spell work lately."

"I'm surprised we didn't think of that," Lily said, turning to face James.

"I am _not_ learning _Muggle_ fighting techniques!" Neville burst out.

"Honestly, Neville, do you have to be such a pompous git?" Ron asked, sighing.

"Muggles aren't bad, Longbottom," Harry said, turning to face him. "And their fighting techniques happen to work remarkably well. Especially since Death Eaters don't expect it. Gives you the element of surprise."

"But why learn it when you have a wand?" Neville asked, backtracking from his Muggle insult.

"Because you can very easily lose your wand," Cedric said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"And even if you've learned wandless magic, that's not always enough. Again, going back to having the element of surprise," Harry finished.

"How about," Riddle finally cut in, breaking up their argument, "we move on to training? I must say, I'm curious to see how Harry fights. Perhaps a duel between Mr. Potter and Mr. Longbottom?"

"Ready to get beaten, Potter?" Neville sneered as everyone moved to the back of the room, giving Harry and Neville space.

"Like today at the lake, you mean?" Harry smirked.

"I was holding back," Neville told him as they bowed to each other.

"I certainly hope you were," Harry said gravely. "I hate to think how you'd fare against Death Eaters or a Dark Lord fighting the way you did earlier."

"Diffindo!" Neville called out, and Harry easily dodged the spell. "Confundo! Confringo!"

Harry easily blocked the first curse, and jumped back for the second, allowing it to blast a hole into the floor.

"Well, you're doing slightly better this time," Harry taunted, trying to anger the boy enough to put more effort into his attack.

"I don't see you fighting back," Neville shot back, firing off more – completely verbal – curses at Harry.

"Yeah, and you won't, until you put more effort into this," Harry told him. "A jerk you might be, but apparently this world depends on you. I want to see how I can help you."

"I don't need _your_ help," Neville said angrily, shooting off a leg-locking curse that Harry easily deflected.

"I beg to differ."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Neville asked, before shooting off a body-binding curse.

"All your spells are verbal, for starters," Harry told him. "Remember that element of surprise I mentioned earlier? Good luck getting that."

"We don't learn non-verbal spells 'til sixth year, though," Neville said, sounding genuinely confused.

"Yeah, and yet I started learning basic non-verbal spells in third year," Harry retorted. "Being the Boy-Who-Lived means you have to take learning Defence a bit more seriously."

"I thought you didn't believe the title deserved special treatment," Neville smirked.

"It doesn't," Harry shrugged. "But when there's a Dark Lord after you, it sort of makes sense to want to be able to fight a bit better than the average fifteen year old, don't you think?"

"I'll bet you can't even do non-verbal magic," Neville told him tauntingly.

"Did you hear any words when I undid those prank spells?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. "Or, for that matter, have you heard any words when I've pulled up shields?"

"You might have been whispering."

"Fine," Harry bit out, flicking his wand at Neville with a silent body-bind and disarming spell. He smirked as he stepped over to the boy, holding his wand. "Non-verbal," he told him, cancelling the body-bind and dropping Neville's wand onto his chest. "Element of surprise. You didn't expect it."

"You shouldn't help the bugger," Ron said when Harry joined the others standing at the back of the room.

"He's a jerk, Ron, but he has people depending on him. Personally, I don't care too much about what happens to him, but…"

"_Neither_ of you has a world depending on you," Hermione said angrily. "How many times have we told you that? It's not the job of a fifteen-year-old to kill Voldemort!"

"The prophecy says it is," Neville told her in a nasty tone, joining them.

"What prophecy?" Hermione asked angrily.

"There isn't a prophecy in your world?" Lily asked, surprised, gazing at Harry.

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…_

"I never confirmed it," Harry mumbled, jumping back when Hermione suddenly flew at him.

"What do you mean, you _never confirmed it_?" she asked him. "You never told us you heard anything about a prophecy!"

"Because I didn't confirm it!" Harry told her, stepping back from her furious gaze. "I saw something in one of Severus's memories, when I was helping Dumbledore get them back… I never brought it up, afterwards. It might not be about me at all!"

"Blimey, mate. That was nearly two months ago, and you never brought it up with anyone?" Ron asked incredulously.

"I sort of… forgot about it, until the Death Eaters mentioned it when they captured us."

"How can you _forget_ about a prophecy?" Neville asked, a smug smirk on his face.

"Can we just forget about that for now, and go back to training?" Harry asked tiredly.

"You actually want to train?" Neville asked, pulling a face. Harry gave him a level stare.

"First of all, I _enjoy_ training," he said, rolling his eyes when Neville pulled another face. "Second of all, _I_ don't have a death wish."

"Neither do I!"

"Well you're bloody well acting like you do," Harry snapped. "Going around being a git to everyone – sure, people will be all nice to you now, but what about after you kill Vold – Dumbledore? They won't have a reason to suck up to you. Piss off the wrong people and you'll find yourself in some deep trouble. And making a fuss about training – do you _want_ to stand a chance against the Death Eaters or not?"

"Woah, easy there," Cho told him, laying a hand on his arm. Harry shook her off, fuming inside. The calming draught couldn't be wearing off again already, could it? Chancing a glance at his parents, and feeling a god-awful amount of emotion surging up through his chest, he decided that maybe it could.

"Just keep him away from me before I completely lose my temper and hex the life out of him," Harry warned her, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

* * *

Please don't let the whole parallel-world thing put you off reading! I'm aware it's not everybody's cup of tea, but it's only going to span for a few chapters!

Reviews make my day, so let me know what you think!

And I'll try to update again next week, but my exam results come on Wednesday and since I'm not sure I did as well as I could have on my exams I may end up being banned from the computer for a bit as punishment. Hopefully I won't; hopefully I did okay... but we'll see. Either way, I have more chapters written, so the story won't get abandoned or whatever.

Thanks to **aryaneragon4ever** for the wizard-rock band suggestions!


	16. The Prophecy

**HP Year 5: Let the War Begin  
**_Chapter 15_

_

* * *

_

Parallel versions of Harry, Ron, Cedric, Cho and Hermione will have astericks (*) after their name when neccessary to avoid confusion as to who's doing what.

* * *

It was nearly one in the morning when a house-elf popped into the common room where Harry and his friends were staying to give him his mirror. He thanked the elf as kindly as he could before turning his attention to the mirror in his hands. Thankful that his friends were already asleep – they were all completely shattered, as was Harry, but he desperately wanted to talk to his guardians before he slept – Harry tapped the mirror, waiting for his guardians to pick up on the other side. When they did, Harry could see obvious signs of tiredness on both their faces.

"We didn't expect you to still be awake, cub," Remus told him with a gentle smile after yawning.

"You can go to bed, if you want," Harry told them. "You looked exhausted."

"Well, it was certainly an emotional chat," Remus said, smiling slightly.

"How're you holding up?" Sirius asked, gazing at Harry intensely as though hoping to read his thoughts.

"Well, I haven't broken down into a blubbering mess yet," Harry shrugged.

"That doesn't really answer my question, kiddo."

"Then… not as good as I could be, and I seem to be taking it out on Neville Longbottom."

"He sounds like a prat, anyway," Sirius waved that off. "Well…" he paused. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing!" Harry quickly defended himself. "I mean, I pranked him at dinner. He deserved it – did you know he called Hermione a Mudblood? But apart from that, I've been good. I so badly _want_ to hex the life out of him, but… for now, I'm making do with just verbal sparring. He is _so_ much worse than Malfoy, and it's even worse when he's in Gryffindor! And to know that _our_ Neville's so nice…"

"They seemed proud of you," Remus said softly, changing the subject before Harry had a chance to get himself worked up. "That you were so talented, and that you hadn't allowed your fame to get to your head like their Neville did. That you stood up to him."

"Right," Harry snorted. "All they've seen of me so far is me acting exactly like Neville does."

"They can tell the difference, Harry," Remus said gently. "Lily was there at the lake, and was very happy you were as against prejudices as she is. And they saw how differently you acted with anyone who wasn't Neville; they know you're only defending yourself when you taunt him."

"Hermione doesn't seem to think so," Harry said wryly, thinking back to his conversation with her from earlier.

"Hermione doesn't know them," Sirius reminded him.

"I suppose," Harry said doubtfully. "How are you two, anyway?" he asked, steering the conversation away from himself. "That can't have been easy, talking to them."

"Oh, it wasn't as hard as it could have been," Sirius brushed him off. "Not with mine and Moony's other selves cracking jokes all the time."

"It was… strange, talking to Pettigrew," Remus admitted.

"So let me get this straight," Harry said, brows furrowed. "You had no problem at all talking to Lily and James Potter, but you found it difficult to talk to Pettigrew?"

"We managed to come to terms with their deaths a long time ago, kiddo," Sirius said. "Wormtail, on the other hand… We haven't quite let go of that little grudge yet."

"Did Sev talk to them?" Harry asked after a moment.

"Briefly," Remus nodded. "Lily was very good about it. We had already explained to her about his change of heart, and how much he's done for you and the Order. She honestly didn't seem to harbour any ill-feelings towards him."

"That's good," Harry said, sighing in relief.

"So what else is on your mind?" Remus asked after several minutes of silence passed.

"I…" Harry trailed off, unsure of whether or not he wanted to voice this question. In the end, though, he decided he owed it to Sirius and Remus to be honest with them. "Neville. Do you think… if I hadn't been brought up the way I was… could I be like that?"

"Your heart is far too good for that -" Remus started reassuringly, but Harry cut across him.

"No, Moony," Harry said firmly. "Look at Neville back home. Could you ever see him being a jerk? The differences in his upbringings are what made each of them who they are. If I hadn't been… abused… all my life, I wouldn't be so sensitive to other things, or as self-conscious. And if I'd been brought up like he was, with a grandmother encouraging me to flaunt my fame…"

"The Harry there wasn't brought up abused," Sirius said eventually. "And he doesn't seem so different from you, from what we were told about him. A bit more outgoing than you, maybe, but not much. Two very different upbringings, and yet you're both still similar."

"But he still wasn't brought up taught to flaunt his fame," Harry said quietly.

"Not all of your kindness comes from the way you were brought up," Remus said patiently. "A lot of it is simply in your genes. You've got a lot of Lily in you; kindness, loyalty, modesty, stubbornness…"

"Look, Harry, the simple fact is, you are _nothing_ like him," Sirius said firmly. "We have two worlds, one with a nice Neville, one with a not-so-nice one. And in both worlds, you're _just as kind_, despite different upbringings. I think that says a lot."

"Mm," Harry said, noncommittally.

"James and Lily are planning on pulling you aside for a chat," Remus told Harry, smiling slightly, changing the subject when it became aware that nothing either of them said would get through to Harry tonight.

"They – _what_?" Harry asked, panicking. "No, but – they can't!"

"Why not?" Sirius asked, confused.

"Because I'll – they'll – I mean, I won't – I'll panic – I mean -"

"Calm down, Harry," Remus interrupted. "They won't force you. They want to get to know you, though."

"Why?" Harry asked quietly, after finally getting a grip on himself. "I'm not sure… if I want to…"

"You always said you wanted to know more about your parents, though," Sirius said slowly.

"Yeah, but… not like this… I don't want to start up some sort of… of _bond_ with them, when I'll just have to leave again soon… and, well, they're not _my _parents."

"But -"

"No, Sirius," Harry said in as firm a tone as he could muster. "They're _not_. My parents are dead. These are the other Harry's parents. They've lived a whole life with _him_, not me."

"At least think about it," Remus advised. "Even if it's painful, think of how much you might regret it someday, knowing that you had the chance to see what they were like, and knowing that you didn't take it."

"Alright," Harry agreed reluctantly. "You should sleep," Harry said after watching his guardians yawn for the hundredth time. "The full moon's coming up, and you're grouchy when you don't sleep enough," Harry told them, aiming one reason at each of them.

"Moony should go sleep," Sirius agreed vehemently. "I, however, am fine staying up."

"You're not staying up just for me," Harry said, shaking his head.

"But -" Sirius started to protest.

"No," Harry said firmly, rubbing a hand against his head. "I'll talk to you again tomorrow. Night."

And then he closed the connection before either of his guardians could protest any further.

.

What he wouldn't do to have Sirius and Remus here with him, Harry thought to himself as he lay on the couch and stared into the fire. He'd gotten far too used to relying on them recently, and now, stranded without them – yes, he had the mirror, but that wasn't _nearly_ the same; they couldn't hug him, and Sirius couldn't bound about in his dog form, and Harry wouldn't be able to have prank duels with them to serve as nice distractions – he felt vulnerable. Alone. He knew he was being silly; he _wasn't_ alone, not at all. He had Ron and Hermione, and Cho and Cedric, and there was _this_ world's Sirius and Remus, plus his parents… _not my parents_, Harry reminded himself for the umpteenth time. And he should be grateful, really; at least he had some connection back to Sirius and Remus. His friends didn't exactly have magic mirrors that would allow them to talk to _their _parents.

Then again, it wasn't like they were in the habit of talking to their parents on a regular basis during the school year. Harry had just gotten used to having Sirius and Remus around twenty-four/seven. Not to mention the fact that none of his friends were having to deal with seeing two people who meant so much and who were supposed to be dead, not walking about and bringing out all sorts of emotions in Harry…

Was it worth talking to them? He desperately wanted to, yes, he would admit that. But would it be worth the pain of leaving them again?

_They were Sirius and Remus's best friends_, his mind reminded him. _And they managed to talk to them._

But talking on the mirror was definitely different than talking in real life, as Harry had already figured out. He would much rather have Sirius and Remus here, than have to rely on a mirror. And it would certainly be more awkward in person, than via a mirror.

But this was his chance. His only chance, to find out what his parents were like. Remus was right; if he didn't take this chance now, he would sorely regret it later on… but he would have to leave them again…

_It is better to have love and lost, than to have never loved at all_.

Where had that come from? He didn't think he could remember someone ever saying that to him before. It did make sense, though…

It took a long, long time for Harry to drift off to sleep that night.

.

It was late into the afternoon before Harry woke up again the next day, and he wasn't too surprised to find himself alone. They _were_ on a new world, after all; he couldn't expect his friends to ignore their curiosity and stay put just because he was sleeping. He frowned, however, when he saw the mirror not sitting where he had left it the previous night, before his eyes caught sight of a piece of paper stuck to the brick wall beside the fireplace.

_Used the mirror, hope you don't mind. You were asleep and it was vibrating, and Sirius said he'd fetch people for us._

Tossing the letter into the fireplace and starting up a small fire with a quick flick of his wand, Harry sauntered into the boys bedroom and was surprised to find a small trunk lying on the bed he had claimed as his. Sifting through it, he found clothes and textbooks, and he frowned as he pulled on clean clothes. Textbooks? Did that mean they were expected to be here long enough to attend classes? He hadn't actually looked at the instructions on how to get back before he'd handed them over to Riddle, but then, he supposed the potion must be very complicated to make – if it wasn't, then surely more people would have travelled between realities before now?

Harry pondered this thought all the way down to the Great Hall, where he was abruptly pulled back to reality as he became aware of yet more uncomfortable staring.

"Seriously, guys, it's rude to stare," Harry grumbled loudly, evoking quiet laughter from some of the students nearest him.

"Over here, mate!" Ron called out as Harry approached the Gryffindor table, and Harry slid in beside him gratefully. "Riddle's got your mirror," Ron told him as Harry plucked a sandwich off one of the plates on the table. "He found us talking to mum on it, and asked if he could borrow it to talk to Dumbledore."

"Why would he want to talk to _Dumbledore_?" asked a little boy who couldn't have been much more than a second year, disgust evident in his voice.

"Our Dumbledore, not yours," Ron told the boy impatiently. "Our Dumbledore isn't Dark. And it's rude to interrupt!"

"They're going to be curious, Ron," Harry chuckled, giving the boy a small smile since he looked thoroughly put out at Ron's snappish reply.

"Yeah, well," Ron muttered, tearing his glare away from the little boy.

"He had a good question, though. Why _does_ he want to talk to Dumbledore?"

"Well, he didn't say," Ron shrugged. "But Hermione reckons he wants to question Dumbledore. She said something about how talking to Dumbledore might help him understand _this_ world's Dumbledore better, giving them a better chance with the war."

"Ah…" Harry trailed off, glancing at the students around them. "Maybe I shouldn't have asked. If this _Lord_ Dumbledore finds out what Riddle's doing…"

"Too late to take it back now," Ron said, wincing. "Oh, here," he said, fumbling around in his pocket. "Timetable," he told Harry, offering him it. "Apparently we're stuck here until the end of the month. Riddle doesn't want us falling behind on class work when it's such an _important_ year."

"Well, he has a point," Harry told Ron, frowning at the sarcasm in his best friend's voice. "We won't be excused from exams just because we were transported to another world," he chided, trying not to laugh at how cheesy the sentence sounded. "How's your mum taking it, anyway?"

"Oh, she doesn't seem too upset," Ron shrugged. "I mean, she's worried, obviously, but mum's _always_ worried. She's just happy we're safe and that we weren't transported straight from one group of Death Eaters to another. Neville seemed upset at the thought of being nasty."

"You spoke to Neville?"

"Yeah, and Fred and George and Ginny. Ginny thought it was hilarious, that this Malfoy is in Hufflepuff, and Fred and George begged you to try and nick prank ideas since we've got all four Marauders here."

"How the hell did Malfoy get into Hufflepuff, anyway?" Harry wondered aloud, glancing over at the blonde boy and marvelling at how much _friendlier_ he looked without his usual sneer.

"His parents both died early in the first war," Ron explained. "Hermione looked it up. He was brought up by _Andromeda_ of all people!"

"Andromeda…" Harry trailed off, trying to remember who that was.

"Tonks's mum," Ron told him.

"Explains a lot, then," Harry grinned. "At least he wasn't given to Bella."

"Although I still can't get over the sight of a non-sneering, non-smirking Malfoy," Ron remarked, glancing at the Hufflepuff table. "And without his little bodyguards stalking him everywhere…"

"Talking about Malfoy?" Cedric asked, sliding onto the bench opposite them.

"Harry was asking how he got into Hufflepuff," Ron grinned. "Where's Hermione and Cho?"

"Library," Cedric said, shaking his head. "Hermione, I understand, but _Cho_?"

"What are you looking up?" Harry asked curiously.

"Just more about this world's history, and theories about parallel worlds, or whatever you want to call this," Cedric waved his hand. "How long were you up for last night, anyway? We tried _everything_ this morning, trying to wake you up!"

"Err… quite late?" Harry offered, giving a sheepish grin. "I stayed up to talk to Sirius and Remus, and then got carried away with my thoughts."

"Better work on that, then, if you want to be up on time for your classes," Cedric grinned.

"What are you going to do, while we're at classes?" Harry asked curiously.

"More research, no doubt," Cedric said, shuddering slightly.

"Shouldn't let the girls bully you, mate," Ron grinned.

"Yeah, cause you _never_ give in to Hermione," Cedric rolled his eyes, and Ron blushed.

.

The group started their new timetables the next day, with potions being the first class. Harry was pleasantly surprised with the class, as Slughorn was eager to explain things and even Ron found himself creating an almost-perfection potion. Harry loved Severus dearly, he really did, but he decided there and then that perhaps his uncle could learn a thing or two from this Professor Slughorn.

Care of Magical Creatures and Divination were the same as they ever were back home, with Hagrid bringing in dangerous-looking beasts, and Professor Trelawney floating around them with a dreamy expression. The only thing Harry decided was better here was that his parallel self here, having been brought up by the Marauders, certainly knew how to liven up classes – not to mention the verbal sparring that now went on between Harry himself and Neville. Most people couldn't seem to decide if they were amused or scared when this happened; glad that someone was standing up to Neville, but scared of what the consequences might be of angering the Boy-Who-Lived.

Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts fast became Harry's favourite classes, and not just for the obvious reasons of his parents – _no, the other Harry's parents_, Harry reminded himself for the millionth time – but because they were undeniably _good_ teachers. James Potter set them off duelling each other, and according to Harry* this was just how the classes ran; every week they would learn a couple of new spells and be expected to incorporate them into their duelling. Harry thought this was quite an effective way of teaching, as they increased their knowledge of spells as well as honing their reflexes, and decided to mention it to Sirius sometime. Lily Potter also seemed to be in favour of practical lessons over theoretical ones and ran her classes much the same way as James, by introducing a few new charms every week. She _did_ set hard essays, though, to make up for the lack of writing in class.

He was surprised when, on Thursday, Lily held him back after class. He chewed on his bottom lip nervously, wondering if he had done something wrong in class, or maybe if she was unhappy about how he was behaving with Neville.

"There's no need for you to look so anxious, Harry," Lily assured him, looking amused. "I only wanted to ask if you would like to join James and I for dinner tonight."

_ James and Lily are planning on pulling you aside for a chat._

"Sure," Harry said, trying his best to give her a bright smile and hide his nervousness.

"You don't have to," Lily assured him, watching him closely. "It can't be easy for you seeing us."

"It isn't," Harry admitted, but then he gave a small shrug. "But nothing in my life ever is." Then, catching himself, Harry a more real smile this time. "But I'd like dinner with you," he decided, startling himself when he realised that this was in fact the truth. Oh, he was still incredibly nervous, but he _did_ want to talk to them. "What time at?"

"Seven o'clock," Lily said, smiling. "Do you know where our rooms are?"

"Yeah, Harry pointed them out to me," Harry told her, smiling back, before leaving the room.

.

And so, at seven that night, Harry tentatively knocked on the door that led to the rooms Lily and James shared. It only took a moment for Lily to answer with a big, bright smile on her face. She ushered him into the main room, where the sofa had been pushed closer to the fire to make space for a table behind it, which was already laden with food that James had already started digging into.

"You couldn't wait, could you?" Lily asked exasperatedly as she guided Harry into a chair.

"I was hungry!" James quickly defended himself. "I was flying with Harry earlier," he went on to explain. "You know how hungry flying makes us! Do you fly, Harry?"

"Oh – yeah, I do," Harry nodded, unable to help the smile that came on his face.

"Then you'll agree that flying makes you hungry?"

"Err… I suppose…"

"It's only been five minutes, and you're already trying to gang him up against me," Lily sighed, although her green eyes were sparkling. "So you like Quidditch, too? I never could understand what's so appealing about it."

"So what place do you play?" James asked curiously.

"Seeker," Harry said proudly, starting to feel more comfortable now. He eyed his food suspiciously, wondering if it was laced with something, or if he was just comfortable because of how friendly the two adults were being. "I got the place in first year after Professor McGonagall saw me catching a remembrall Malfoy chucked away."

"They allow first year students to join the teams in your world?" James asked, sounding envious.

"Not usually," Harry shook his head. "I was a special case, I think."

.

And so the night continued like that for the next couple of hours, with the light-hearted conversation and questions from Lily and James. They eventually convinced him to tell them all about his years at Hogwarts, having remembered what his friends said about him in the Hospital Wing, so he found himself telling them all about the troll in first year that had led to him and Ron befriending Hermione, and about going after the Stone and finding Voldemort in the back of Quirrel's head. They chuckled when Harry told them about all of Dobby's doings in second year, where the elf had ironically almost ended up killing Harry himself whilst trying to save his life. He explained about his training with Severus and how, although the man had been a prat in the first few months, he had eventually started to see Harry as his own person, rather than a mini-James, and how they had eventually started forming a closer bond. He told them about his Parseltongue abilities, and about the Petrifications that happened, and how he eventually ended up slaying a Basilisk and seeing an echo of the teenage Voldemort. They looked grim when Harry explained about the Dementors in his third year and how everyone had thought there was a mass-murderer after him, nobody knowing at the time that Sirius was in fact innocent, and instantly brightened up when Harry moved onto Sirius and Remus adopting him. They looked proud after Harry finally finished describing his fourth year, and the tasks along with it, along with his meeting with Voldemort after his rebirth, although they both looked sympathetic at the obvious pain in Harry's voice when he spoke of Viktor.

"And that's pretty much it," Harry concluded finally, feeling rather tired. "I'd been hoping for a more normal year this year, but apparently that's not going to happen."

"What was my sister like?" Lily asked, abruptly changing the subject, as if she had been dying to ask this question for ages. "I gather that it can't have been the nicest of relationships, if you were so happy to leave the Dursleys behind, and Tuney can certainly be difficult when it comes to anything relating to magic. As it is, she point-blank refuses to have anything to do with me anymore."

"Not to mention how furious your Sirius and Remus looked when we brought up their names," James added.

"Well… you're right about her being difficult," Harry said slowly, keeping his gaze on the table.

"What did she do that had Sirius and Remus so riled up, though?" James prodded.

"N-nothing," Harry said hesitantly. "It wasn't really her. I mean, they hate her too, but it was Uncle Vernon…"

"Alright, so what did _he_ do?" James persisted, ignoring the warning look from Lily.

_This isn't happening, this isn't happening, this isn't happening…_

"Did they hurt you?" Lily asked, quiet anger lacing her voice.

_ This isn't happening, this isn't happening, this isn't happening…_

"Merlin, they did!" James exclaimed, suddenly furious.

"I'll just go -" Harry started, but Lily reached out to grasp his arm as he stood.

"No, stay," she said softly. "James, calm down. We're not ending the night like this."

"Right, sorry."

"Life hasn't been fair to you at all, has it?" Lily asked sadly.

"It still could've been worse," Harry shrugged. Neither Lily nor James looked happy with this answer, but from the look on Harry's face, both seemed to agree that perhaps it was better to stick with safer topics for the rest of the night.

.

When Harry arrived back at his own rooms at eleven o'clock, he was surprised to find his four friends sitting together on the couch, talking tiredly but contentedly amongst themselves.

"I hope you didn't wait up just for me," he said, frowning, but then grinning when all four of them jumped.

"Of course we did!" Ron burst out. "What were they like? What'd you talk about?"

"At least give him the chance to sit down, Ron," Cho said to the redhead, grinning slightly.

"They're nice," Harry smiled, ignoring the chairs and sitting down on the floor by the fire instead. "James is kind of like Sirius. He likes to crack jokes and keep stuff light-hearted. And he's more Quidditch-obsessed than even you, I think, Ron."

"What about your mum?" Hermione asked. "Lily," she corrected herself at Harry's look.

"She's more serious than James," Harry said after a moment. "I suppose he needs someone to keep him under control, like Remus does for Sirius. And she reminds me of you, a bit," he told Hermione. "She knows a lot, about _everything_. I'm not saying James isn't smart – I mean, he's a Professor, so _obviously_ he's smart – but Lily's just…"

"So what _did_ you talk about, aside from Quidditch?" Cho asked curiously.

"Well, I explained all about our exciting years," Harry grinned. "And we talked about what sort of things I like, and some of the differences between this world and our own. And they brought up the Dursleys." Harry pulled a face at this. "They seemed to guess pretty quickly how it was growing up with them, but we didn't get into specifics, thank Merlin," Harry continued, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. "And then James started talking about all these pranks the Marauders used to pull off, and Lily told me all about the numerous times James asked her out."

"They sound great, Harry," Cho smiled, and Harry nodded.

"They are. It was so easy to get along with them, and to feel comfortable with them. It made hard to remember that they're not _my_ parents…"

"They still technically are," Hermione pointed out. "You're just not letting them -"

"Even if they are, 'Mione," Harry cut across. "It's easier to think they aren't. We're leaving at the end of the month, and I'll never see them again. I don't want to get close to them, just to have to leave them… to get a taste of what my life _could_ have been like, only to have to leave it behind…"

And yet, despite Harry's best efforts, he couldn't deny that a bond had definitely been started that night between him and the adult Potters, and he just _knew_ that rather than disappearing it was going to end up growing stronger…

.

"Riddle wants to see you tonight," Harry* announced when Harry, Ron, Hermione and Cho slid in beside him at the Gryffindor table next morning.

"What for?" Harry frowned. "And – me? Or all of us?"

"Just you," Harry* clarified. "Although, I don't know what it's about. I was just told – rather rudely – by Longbottom to pass on the message."

"Does everyone honestly just put up with him?" Hermione asked, looking annoyed as she neatly buttered her toast.

"He has a lot of political power," Hermione* told them, although she too looked annoyed. "Nobody wants to risk him using that against them."

"Except you," Ginny said, grinning.

"Yes, and the only reason he can get away with it is because he's not from this world," Hermione reminded her. "So don't go getting any ideas."

"I'm not stupid," Ginny scowled. "Even Fred and George don't touch him."

"Really?" Cedric cut in, looking amused.

"It isn't safe," Harry* shrugged.

"That wouldn't stop the Fred and George we know," Ron chuckled.

"Mm," Hermione pursed her lips, clearly not believing him.

.

After dinner that night, Harry slowly made his way to the Headmaster's office. Just like when he and his friends had first arrived, the stone gargoyle guarding the way instantly sprung aside for him, not even requesting a password. Harry frowned at this. In all the excitement following their arrival in this strange new world, where everything seemed to be quite upside-down, he had forgotten to ask about the gargoyle. Surely it didn't just let _everyone_ in without a password?

"Ah, good, you're here," Riddle called out, smiling when Harry reached the top of the stairs to find the door open.

"Sir, the stone gargoyle," Harry started, closing the office door behind him. "Why does it just let me through?"

"Because you have the same magical signature as our own Harry Potter," Riddle explained, motioning for Harry to take a seat. "And I have charmed the gargoyle to let certain people through, as it is much easier to do that than keep everyone updated with the password."

"But magical signatures can be replicated," Harry pointed out, confused.

"And therein lies the tricky part of the charm, Mr Potter," Riddle said pleasantly. "However, there are certain protections in place to deal with that sort of problem. Lemon sherbet?"

"Err, no, thank you, sir," Harry answered politely, although he was amused.

"A suggestion of your own Headmaster," Riddle said amiably, popping one of the sweets into his own mouth. "He assured me they were absolutely delightful in flavour and that indeed, people felt more comfortable with a Headmaster who offered them a sweet."

"Well, it helps me remember that you're not a Dark Wizard," Harry agreed after a moment. "I can't see Lord Voldemort offering me a sweet…"

"No, I don't imagine you can," Riddle agreed, leaning back in his chair and relaxing. "I suspect you are wondering why I asked you to come up here?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said, keeping himself polite even as he leaned forward slightly, gazing at the Headmaster with curious eyes.

"I would like to discuss the prophecy with you," Riddle told him, not bothering to beat about the bush. "And also the possibility of your own Dark Lord's use of Horcruxes."

"I don't know for definite that I have a prophecy, sir," Harry said cautiously. "I saw a memory of one, and it sounded like it _might_ have referred to me – it certainly referred to Voldemort – but I never checked, afterwards."

"Well, we shall compare it to the prophecy that was made about Mr Longbottom then. If your prophecy is the same, then it is indeed about you, and if it is different… then I shall leave you to discuss that with your own Headmaster."

"Alright, sir," Harry agreed. He accepted a piece of parchment that Riddle handed to him, reading over it curiously.

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not. And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies._

And Harry remembered. The memory in Severus's head, the beginning of the prophecy, before he had been caught…

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…_

"I think it's the same, sir," Harry said quietly, handing the piece of parchment back to Riddle. "I only heard the beginning, but it matches."

"I suspected it might," Riddle nodded, placing the piece of parchment in a drawer on his desk. "You understand what it means?"

_And either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives._

"It means I have to be the one to kill Voldemort. And…"

_ And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…_

"My scar, that was him marking me, wasn't it? But… what power…?"

"I do not know that the power is that the prophecy mentions. I have been trying for years to figure that part out, and as of yet, I have been unsuccessful. You are correct in that your scar is the result of him marking you as an equal."

"And I'm right that I have to kill him?"

"I will tell you what I told Mr Longbottom," Riddle said, his tone very serious. "Due to the way that you are marked, you are indeed far more likely to be successful than anybody else who endeavours to kill the Dark Lord. Your scar offers you some sort of protection, or extra power, that others do not have. However, it does _not_ mean you have to kill him alone. Mr Longbottom assumed that he could have no one else with him in the final battle, that no one else could help, but he could not have been further from the truth."

"But the prophecy says it has to be me…"

"Only that you fire the killing curse," Riddle said, inclining his head slightly. "Not that you must face him alone. Just as Dumbledore – or, in your case, Voldemort – always takes his Death Eaters with him for backup, you, too, should have friends as backup. They can help you duel him, as long as it is not they who fire the fatal curse."

"Alright, sir," Harry said. He was very doubtful of what Riddle was saying, but he didn't want to argue with the man over it, and in any case, he needed time to think it over before he tried to reach any conclusions. He suddenly recalled the second reason that Riddle had called him here. "What is a Horcrux, sir?"

"A Horcrux, put simply, is an object in which a wizard has hidden a part of his soul in. By doing this, he is effectively immortal."

"I'm not sure I understand, sir," Harry frowned.

"Lord Dumbledore – or, of course, in your case, Lord Voldemort – has split his soul. Dumbledore split his into seven pieces, as seven is the most magical number in the wizarding world. By doing this, he ensured that even if the piece of soul living inside his body were ever to die, he _himself_ would not, as his soul still resided in several other objects."

"And that's why Voldemort was able to be resurrected…"

"Indeed," Riddle nodded. "I mentioned the possibility to your Headmaster of your Voldemort using Horcruxes, and he seemed inclined to believe it. He mentioned a diary that you destroyed in your second year…?"

"It had… a shade of Tom Riddle in it," Harry recalled the description Severus had given him. "A piece of his soul," Harry realised what Riddle was getting at.

"Correct," Riddle nodded.

"How do you find them, sir?" Harry asked eagerly. "And destroy them?"

"They are not easy to find," Riddle explained. "For they could be _anything_. The object will be something that the creator treasures, but aside from that small clue, it is basically a guessing game. As for destroying them, it takes very powerful magic. A powerful spell or, as you figured out, a strong venom like that of the Basilisk."

"And you think he might have made seven of them?" Harry asked nervously.

"It is only a guess," Riddle was quick to say. "I daresay your own Headmaster will be able to tell you more when you arrive back in your own world. However, do not forget that you have already destroyed one. That means you are one step closer to destroying them all."

"Is that all, sir?" Harry asked quietly, trying to school his features into a casual look. This, of course, did not fool Riddle at all.

"You may go," Riddle nodded with a small smile. "If you have any questions, my office is always open."

"Thank you, sir," Harry murmured, before quickly escaping the too-hot room.

.

Rather than returning to the rooms he shared with his friends, Harry went out to the lake. A quick glance at his watch told him he only had half an hour until he was supposed to go with Harry* and Neville for training, anyway. There were a few students milling around the grounds, and the ones nearer to where Harry was sitting kept sending him curious looks, but Harry easily ignored them. He was too used to people staring to really be bothered by it anymore. He did feel uncomfortable sitting here without his trusty Marauders Map, though; he'd gotten used to relying on it lately when out and about on Hogwarts grounds. Shaking his head to rid himself of those thoughts, Harry turned his mind to more important matters.

Like the fact that there was a prophecy stating that he was the one who had to kill Voldemort.

Severus knew, and so did Dumbledore. Harry knew that for sure. But who else knew? Sirius and Remus? He knew his friends didn't, at least. It would only be adults that knew… why hadn't they told him? It was about _him_, he had a bloody right to know! Was _this_ why Dumbledore had been so insistent Severus train Harry? But if it was… why had Severus refused so furiously at first? If he had known Harry would have to fight Voldemort, why had he been so unhappy to train him?

And that brought _another_ question. If Dumbledore had known Harry would need training for it, then he had known Voldemort would come back! Thinking back to the end of his fourth year, Harry realised that Dumbledore hadn't actually looked all that surprised at the fact that Voldemort had returned.

Did that mean he had known about the Horcruxes all this time, too?

He was angry. No, beyond angry – Harry was _furious_. And hurt, and betrayed. The adults he trusted so much hadn't even trusted him back. He'd had to find out all this stuff from a Headmaster from a _whole different bloody world_!

And never mind all that… Harry had to defeat Voldemort. Oh, he'd had his suspicions that he might help a lot towards bringing about the Dark Lord's downfall; it wasn't like people could keep him out of the fight, with the way Voldemort always sought him out… but he'd never guessed the whole fate of the wizarding world rested solely upon _his_ shoulders. A heavy, gut-wrenching feeling of fear settled in the pit of Harry's stomach as he pondered everything over. If Voldemort knew the prophecy – and his past actions implied that he _did_ – then he wouldn't stop until he killed Harry. Sure, he'd briefly given up and sent Harry away instead, but they were going back, and Voldemort wouldn't make the same mistake twice. Next time, he _would_ kill Harry…

Unless Harry killed him first… but how in the hell was he supposed to do that, anyway? He wasn't _powerful_, not like Voldemort. Not to mention the fact that Harry wasn't sure he had it in him to murder anybody anyway, even if it _was_ a blood-thirsty murderous Dark Lord…

And what was this special power of his? He had the ability to sense dark magic, that was uncommon… but how could sensing magic help him kill Voldemort? If he could use that ability in a duel at all, it would definitely be in a defensive manner, and defensive actions didn't kill, they protected…

And what about those Horcruxes? From what Harry had mananged to understand, he couldn't kill Voldemort until he destroyed the Horcruxes, and that was sounding impossible. How was he supposed to guess what Voldemort might turn into a Horcrux? Unless Dumbledore knew… but would Dumbledore trust him enough to tell him anyway, if he did know? He hadn't shown a whole lot of trust in Harry so far.

There _was_ that connection between his and Voldemort's mind… perhaps he could ask Severus to teach him Legilimency as well as Occlumency, and maybe find out the answers in Voldemort's mind? He would have to be really subtle, though, to make sure Voldemort didn't sense Harry in his head…

_Born to those who have thrice defied him_.

Harry blinked as that line of the prophecy floated through his mind. His parents had defied Voldemort three times? Harry shook his head again, trying to focus on the more important aspects of the prophecy.

Like the fact that he, a measly fifteen year old, was expected to somehow defeat one of the most powerful wizards alive.

Well, at least Harry understood why Neville was such a politically strong character in this world, if people were relying on him to save them all…

The sound of approaching footsteps snapped Harry out of his thoughts, and within two seconds he was on his feet with his wand pointing at the intruder.

"Just me," Harry* said cheerily, holding up his hands.

"You shouldn't sneak up on people," Harry said after a moment, tucking his wand back into his wand holster and relaxing back down onto the grass.

"I wasn't sneaking!" Harry* protested. "I just came to check if you were alright. You missed training, and your friends didn't know where you were either. I found you on the Marauders map, and you weren't moving…"

"So you thought I was what, attacked?"

"Something like that," Harry* shrugged, sitting down beside Harry. "You do this often?" he asked. "Sit at the lake," he clarified at Harry's blank look.

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "It's peaceful. Good for thinking. Do you?"

"All the time," Harry* grinned. "Mum likes it too. I suppose we get it from her."

"What was it like? Growing up with them?"

"Good," Harry* said after a moment, glancing cautiously at Harry. "Dangerous, with the amount of prank wars that went on. Drove mum mad," Harry* grinned. "The first spell I ever learned was one that changed her hair colour. They brought me up as a mini-Marauder. Mum always tried to counter them, pulling me aside and giving me lectures on _sensible_ uses of magic, but… it was four against one."

"You don't seem like much of a prankster."

"You've not been here long," Harry* reminded him. "Mum's asked me to tone it down for a bit. You seem to be into pranks, though. Especially against Longbottom."

"It's a more recent thing," Harry explained. "Sirius and Remus have been trying to turn me into a Marauder, since they reckon we need more reasons to laugh with Voldemort back. And Neville deserved it," he finished, shrugging. "You really wouldn't believe how similar he is to the Draco Malfoy in my world."

"Well, keep it up," Harry* told him, grinning again. "Since you're about the only one who won't suffer for it."

"We'll see," Harry said noncommittally.

"So what was it like growing up with Aunt Petunia?" Harry* asked curiously. "She's not especially fond of me. She chucked a frying pan at me once. We haven't visited since then."

"It wasn't pleasant," Harry shrugged. "I lived. It's a hell of a lot better living with Sirius and Remus though."

"I'll bet," Harry* grinned.

.

When Harry returned to the rooms he was sharing with his friends, he was unsurprised to find them all waiting up for him again.

"Where have you _been_?" Cho asked angrily, rounding on him the minute the door closed behind him. "Not in the castle, not at training -!"

"I went outside to clear my head after talking to Riddle," Harry explained, pushing past her to sit in front of the warm fire. "I lost track of time. Then Harry found me and we talked for a bit."

"What did Riddle want you for?" Cedric asked, quickly picking up on the fact that it must have been something big for Harry to need to clear his head so thoroughly that he lost track of time.

"To talk about the prophecy, and how Voldemort managed not to die," Harry said bitterly, not looking at his friends. "Figures that I have to go to a whole new world to find people who trust me enough to tell me the important stuff."

"What do you mean, mate?" Ron asked anxiously.

"I _mean_," Harry said through clenched teeth, "that Dumbledore has been keeping a _very_ big secret from me, one that basically affects my life!"

"I'm sure he had his reasons," Hermione said in a placating tone.

"They better be damn good ones, then," Harry growled.

"Why's it got you so riled up?" Ron asked cautiously, as though afraid of Harry's anger. Which, really, he ought to be, seeing as it wasn't very often Harry managed to lose his temper like this.

"Because the prophecy's about _me_," Harry ground out. "Me and Voldemort. About what I have to do. It explains everything – why I was targeted as a baby, and why he's so eager to kill me now. It explains why Dumbledore was so insistent that I get good training. It's all to prepare me! And he never even _told_ me!"

"Prepare you for what?" asked Cho.

"To kill him. To kill Voldemort. It has to be _me_ that kills him, that's what the prophecy says! It's either kill or be killed. It's up to _me_…" Harry trailed off, his anger dissipating to be replaced by fear once more. "The fate of the wizarding world rests on the shoulders of a messed-up fifteen year old." His friends were looking at him in shock, and Harry found he couldn't help the hysterical laughter that bubbled up and escaped his lips as it really sunk in that really, in all honesty, if the prophecy was true, then the wizarding world was pretty much doomed, because really, what hope did a fifteen year old kid have of facing off against Voldemort and _winning_?

* * *

Again, a plea not to let the parallel-universe thing put you off. It really does only last a few chapters.

Also, hope you don't mind canon pairings too much. I decided it was too hard to give up Teddy, so despite more people voting for a Tonks/Charlie relationship (you might remember I asked, back in year4, which you would prefer) I've decided to go with Tonks/Remus, and also Bill/Fleur. Both relationships will be introduced soon enough, but I won't put much of a focus on them. I just couldn't give up sweet little Teddy!

School's starting back in a week, so rather than weekly updates I'll soon have to slip into updating every two weeks instead, but I shouldn't have to abandon the story. School's stressful and time-consuming and all, but I'll find a way to keep motivated and keep writing.

Last of all, I have a fic suggestion for anyone really bored. It's a really original idea, and though it took me awhile to get into it at first, it is honestly one of the most amazing fics I've read in a long time. It's called **Prince of the Dark Kingdom** by **Mizuni-sama** and is _very_ long and has nice, regular updates. It's one of the most interesting & original plotlines I've come across, so if you're looking for something to read, you should really give it a shot!


	17. Christmas

**HP Year 5: Let the War Begin  
**_Chapter 16_

_

* * *

_

Parallel versions of Harry, Ron, Cedric, Cho and Hermione will have astericks (*) after their name when neccessary to avoid confusion as to who's doing what.

* * *

Harry didn't sleep that night, though when his friends woke up next morning he pretended to have enjoyed a refreshing sleep along with them. He had, at least, regained control of his emotions, which meant there would be _hopefully_ no more angry or hysterical outbursts. At some point during the night it had started snowing, and all the way down to the Great Hall Ron was talking excitedly about planning another massive snowball fight like the one they'd had last year involving all the houses. When they entered the hall and found themselves seats along the bench at the Gryffindor table, Harry did his best to ignore the intent gazes he could feel from Riddle, James and Lily. He needed more time for it all to sink in before he would be able to talk about it without blowing up. Not that he was angry with the adults of this world – or even his own, really; it was just Dumbledore he was annoyed with, and maybe Severus a little, since his memory proved he knew some of the prophecy – but that wouldn't stop him taking his anger against other people out on them, if they tried to bring the subject of the prophecy up…

"Are you planning on eating?" Cho teased, although Harry could sense the underlying concern.

"Yeah, I was just trying to figure out how to get everyone involved in a snowball fight," Harry lied, spooning some eggs onto his plate. "Sirius and Remus planned it last year. I'm not sure how to get _everyone_ involved."

"We can do that," a pair of voices chorused together, and Harry grinned when he saw the Weasley twins and Harry* standing behind him.

"When's this massive snowball fight happening, then?" George asked, grinning wildly.

"Sometime after lunch, I think," Hermione said, before any of the boys could answer.

"Great, just leave it to us!" Fred winked at them, and then the twins sauntered off, leaving Harry* to join them at the table.

"You joining us for training again tonight?" he asked as he helped himself to some toast.

"Sure," Harry said, forcing on a smile, after it became obvious his friends were letting him decide. Besides, training was always one of the few things that helped clear his head, not to mention James and Lily probably wouldn't bring up the whole prophecy thing with everyone else there.

.

Harry went outside for a jog around the snowy grounds after breakfast, having managed to reassure his friends he wasn't going to turn mental on them. It felt refreshing to be able to jog in the cold, as he could run further without getting as hot as he usually did, and he relished in being able to really strain his muscles. He was able to run much further than he had last year, and he was immensely pleased at how well his stamina was building. Eventually, however, he felt like he was going to start hyperventilating if he didn't stop for a rest, so he slowed his jog to a brisk walk as he made his way towards the partially-frozen lake and settled himself down. After allowing himself a few moments to regain his breath, he slipped his hand inside his pockets to pull out his trusted little mirror – and frowned. It felt odd in his hands, different somehow... Cold. _Lonely_…

But how could a _mirror_ feel lonely?

"Sirius?" Harry tried, his frown deepening when the mirror didn't vibrate like it usually did in its attempt to start a connection. "Sirius?" he tried again, trying not to let the anxiety bubbling in him to build up. "Remus?"

But no matter how many times Harry attempted to start a connection, it just didn't work. Shoving the mirror back in his pocket, Harry jogged back to the castle, pleased to find that his friends had just about reached the door that he'd come crashing through, apparently on their way to find him.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked instantly, picking up on the worry in Harry's face.

"The mirror," he explained, hurriedly pulling it back out of his pocket again. "It isn't working!"

"What do you mean, it isn't working?" Ron asked, frowning at the mirror.

"Just that… it _isn't working_. Like… it can't sense the connection to the other two…"

"Like the other two have been broken?" Cho suggested hesitantly.

"No," Hermione said slowly.

"It's not likely that both Sirius _and_ Remus would break their mirrors," Cedric quickly agreed, although Harry thought it sounded too much like Cedric trying to reassure him than the older boy actually believing the words. If they had been captured…

"Just because a potion is completed doesn't mean the ingredients within it stop interacting with each other," Hermione said thoughtfully, her gaze not leaving the mirror. "That's why some potions have to be used within a certain amount of time; the continued interactions between the magical properties can eventually render it useless."

"You think the potion's just… wore off?" Harry asked hopefully, after simplifying down the words at Ron's confused look.

"Lost it's effectiveness, yes," Hermione nodded. "It makes more sense than the other two mirrors being broken, seeing as it still attempted to connect to Sirius's last year after he broke it."

"I forgot about that," Harry said, blinking. Of course his guardians were alright. He'd just over-reacted, like always. "Thank Merlin," he breathed, swiping a hand tiredly over his eyes. "Although…" he trailed off, gazing forlornly at the now-useless mirror in his hand. "I wanted to talk to them…"

"You'll see them again in a few weeks," Cedric reminded him, and Harry resisted the urge to pull a face at him.

"I know that," he said, tucking the mirror carefully back into his pocket. "But still… the prophecy…" he trailed off, shaking his head. He didn't particularly want to get into another conversation about that with his friends, not right now. "Should we get some of our homework out the way?" he suggested. "I doubt we'll be in the mood after the snowball fight…"

.

When the group arrived in the Great Hall for lunch later that day, the room was buzzing with excited chatter and Harry heard more than one reference to the upcoming snowball fight. He grinned at his counterpart when he spotted him sitting with Ginny and Draco – his smile almost faltered when his eyes fell upon the blonde boy, before he reminded himself that this wasn't _his_ Malfoy – and led his friends over to sit opposite them.

"Where's Hermione?" he asked. "And Luna?" It wasn't often he found Harry* sitting without the two girls, although it was a bit more unusual for Draco to be sitting at the table too.

"Library," Draco supplied, watching Harry and his friends with curious eyes. They hadn't had much of a chance to interact – although, some of that was deliberate, as Harry tended to avoid the boy since he wasn't sure he could act totally friendly towards him.

"Hermione's still really intrigued by the whole other-world stuff," Harry explained. "And Luna's the only one who can stand so much time in the library with her."

"I would go with her," Hermione said indignantly. "I've been researching it too – it would go by so much faster with the two of us…"

"She isn't planning on joining the snowball fight," Harry* hinted, grinning slightly, and Hermione beamed.

"Who's all going?" Cedric asked curiously.

"Everyone," Harry said, waving his hand around vaguely. "Even some of the Slytherins, I think."

"And the staff," Draco piped up.

"So be careful," Harry warned, nodding. "It'll be hard to tell you and me apart, so Dad and Sirius are likely to gang up on you."

"I'm used to being ganged up on," Harry assured him, thinking of Malfoy and his fellow snakes back home. Being outnumbered had never deterred him before. "I'm sure I can handle them," he continued, grinning.

"If you say so," Harry* said, grinning doubtfully.

.

Harry and his friends – and his counterpart – were amongst the last to leave the hall, and they carefully placed Warming Charms on themselves before stepping outside into the chilly air. Harry had to grin at the sight; even more people had turned up at this fight than the one Sirius and Remus had staged last year. He ducked as a snowball flew towards him, moving much to fast to have been thrown without magic, and his grin widened as he gathered up snow from the ground and lobbed it into the chaotic mass of students.

It was easy, too easy, to be caught up in the excitement surrounding him, and Harry soon found all his worries about the prophecy, about his not-dead parents, about the mirror, and everything else, fading away to be replaced by a single feeling of contentedness. He let his instincts take over him – snowball fights really were quite similar to duels, in that he had to be quick-thinking, aim well, and dodge skilfully. It wasn't long before he did indeed find himself cornered by James and Sirius, but they underestimated him and allowed him to catch them both in the face with fluffy white snow before he ducked away again out of their sights, to catch Ron on the back of the head, not really caring if it was _his_ Ron or not. He grinned when, out of nowhere, a snowball suddenly whacked him on the back of his head, finding much more enjoyment in being attacked than could be healthy, and he carelessly lobbed his own snowball back in the direction the other had come from.

By the time Harry finally gave in to the numbness of his body, there were considerably less people around, making it easy for him to spot the absence of his friends. Frowning slightly, he entered the castle, pausing to cast a drying charm on himself at the thought of what Filch might say if he were to run into him. A quick glance in the library told him that his friends weren't there, and somehow he doubted they would have retired to their quarters so early…

Thankfully, when Harry peeked into the kitchens, he found his friends all sitting around a table laden with food.

"Thanks for telling me where you were going," Harry told them, pulling a face as he plopped down on one of the empty seats.

"We couldn't see you," Cho explained apologetically. "And Ron and Cedric were getting hungry."

"Just blame it on us," Cedric grumbled, rolling his eyes good-naturedly.

"How'd the library go?" Harry asked, turning his attention to Hermione as he helped himself to a sausage roll.

"It was great, Harry!" Hermione said enthusiastically, and that was when Harry finally noticed the small (by Hermione's standards, at least) pile of books lying at her feet. She gave him a sheepish smile at that. "We covered so much more, working together," Hermione continued, ignoring when Ron shook his head at her in exasperation. "We still haven't found any way of travelling between worlds, though," she said, suddenly frowning. "I wonder how You-Know-Who managed it… not that Professor Snape isn't very clever, of course," she added hastily for Harry's sake, "but if nobody else has managed to come up with a method…"

"I doubt Sev came up with it all on his own, Hermione," Harry reassured her amusedly. "Voldemort has spies everywhere. He probably had all sorts of experts helping develop it. Maybe people from the Department of Mysteries," he said thoughtfully, thinking back to the vague mentions he had heard of Unspeakables. If anyone were to dabble in mysteries such as inter-world travelling, it would be them. "What about the balance you were talking about before?"

"I still don't understand it all that well," Hermione admitted reluctantly.

"Except that it's not safe for us to remain here for too long," Cedric said, sighing.

"What would happen if we stayed too long?" Cho asked, having missed some of their conversations with Hermione.

"The universe would try to balance everything out. It would kill us off," Cedric explained darkly.

"We don't know how," Hermione said, when Cho turned a horrified gaze to her. "_But_, I did find one documented case – although there are rumours it's entirely fictional – of visitors, like us, remaining in a different world for two and a half months."

"So hopefully we're safe for the one month that we're here," Ron said, trying not to sound worried.

"Only three weeks left," Harry reminded him, trying to sound comforting but not sure if he was succeeding at all.

"Hard to believe we've only been here for a week," Hermione murmured, and Harry wasn't sure if he agreed with her or not. On the one hand, yes, it certainly did feel as though they had been here for more than a mere seven days; all the stresses they'd had to deal with, the adjustments they'd had to make… it felt like they'd been here for weeks, rather than days. On the other hand… they'd been here for a full week and yet were no closer to understanding anything much about travelling between worlds, or indeed many of the differences between this world and their own. And yes, he was able to remain calm around his parents now without the aid of a calming draught, but he was still fearful of strengthening the slight bond he had started to create with them, all too aware of the fact that in a mere three weeks he would head off back home, never to see them again. _Until I die, anyway. Which might be sooner than I expect…_

Shaking his head to clear it of that thought, Harry helped himself to more food as the conversation drifted to safer topics – like Ron's plan to use the school's spare broomsticks to have a game of Quidditch to celebrate Christmas.

.

It was another week before Riddle once again requested Harry's presence in his office. He had obviously been holding off, giving Harry some space and time to have dinner with his parents every other night, since they tended to last a long time with everything they had to chat about. As much as Harry wanted to ignore the man and just go see his parents instead, he felt that would be rather rude, given that he was the only one who had trusted Harry enough with the details that were so much intertwined with his life. So, after dinner the following Friday night, Harry reluctantly said bye to his friends and headed up to Riddle's office. The man was bent over a piece of parchment when Harry entered, his brows furrowed in concentration until, with a flourish, he disposed of his quill, settled the letter to the side, and gazed at Harry with warm eyes.

"Evening, Professor," Harry offered politely as Riddle beckoned him over to sit on one of the comfier chairs in front of his desk.

"How are you, Harry?" Riddle asked kindly, and Harry swallowed nervously, feeling as though he was being scrutinized.

"Fine, sir," he answered after a moments pause. Riddle gazed at him for a moment longer, before nodding his head.

"Since your mirror no longer works," Riddle started, wasting no time in going straight to business, "I felt it prudent that I explain to you what Albus and I were able to find out." Here, he paused, gazing at Harry intently. "Albus told me he has reason to believe that your Voldemort created seven Horcruxes."

"Seven?" Harry repeated, struggling to keep his voice even. "They'll be impossible to find…"

"Albus hoped that I would have some ideas as to what Voldemort might choose to use, but unfortunately, I shudder at the mere thought of creating such a dark magical object."

"You don't seem much like Voldemort anyway," Harry shrugged, sensing that the man seemed to be feeling almost _guilty_ that he couldn't help more. "So I doubt you would make the same choices as he would."

"Perhaps," Riddle nodded, sounding unconvinced but looking slightly more cheerful now. "He also requested that I try teaching you Occlumency," he carried on, swiftly changing the topic, since there was nothing more they could say about the Horcruxes for the moment. "Since you're missing your lessons back home, and at your early stage of learning, it is unwise to take too much of a break."

"Alright, sir," Harry said nervously, thinking of the unpleasant memories in his head.

"You may place memories in my pensieve, if you wish," Riddle offered, understanding immediately where Harry's nervousness was stemming from. Harry nodded gratefully.

"When will we have the lessons, sir?"

"Would Saturday evenings be suitable for you?"

Again, Harry nodded.

"Excellent," Riddle smiled. "Very well. Unless you have any questions, you are free to go."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said sincerely as he stood up, although Riddle could never understand exactly _why_ Harry was thanking him. Riddle inclined his head at Harry in acceptance of the thanks before bidding farewell.

.

Harry headed out to the lake again after his meeting, and was surprised to see Draco Malfoy sitting at it already, gazing out at the water. He hesitated, but so far he had managed to get along quite well with Draco whenever he'd had to hang around with him. Really, _this_ Draco Malfoy was, so far, at least, a pretty decent guy. Making up his mind, Harry started walking towards him. The blonde boy was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't even notice Harry approaching, and jumped, fairly startled, when Harry sat down beside him.

"You're bleeding," Harry frowned, when Draco had turned to gaze at him. The Hufflepuff blinked, then wiped at his mouth, ridding his skin of the thin red trail. "What happened?"

"It's nothing," Draco shrugged. "Got in the way of Finnigan's fist."

"What?" Harry exclaimed angrily, startling Draco for the second time that night.

"It's nothing," Draco repeated, more firmly this time. "Besides, it gave me the chance to test a new hex on him."

"I hope it was painful," Harry growled. "Or… really embarrassing."

"I'm not one for pranks," Draco shook his head, grinning.

"Why'd he do it?"

"He's a bully, plain and simple," Draco told him, sounding annoyed. Harry shook his head, burying away the anger he could feel before Draco had a chance to see it. "So what brings you out here?" he asked, changing the topic from himself to Harry.

"Oh," Harry hesitated. "Just wanted to clear my head," he offered eventually. "The lake always helps with that."

"It's quite peaceful," Draco nodded, agreeing, as the two turned their gazes out to the water which was rippling slightly from the fish swimming near the surface.

"I saved you from it once," Harry said, not turning to face Draco. "To this day, Ron thinks I was nuts and should've just left you."

"I do sound like I'm a right prat in your world," Draco said lightly, not sounding offended at all. "What'd I do that merited needing to be saved?"

"You fell in," Harry said, frowning. "Or… I don't know. Either way, you were being attacked by Grindylows. It was second year… we didn't even know what they were, to attack them properly."

"How'd you get rid of them, then?" Draco asked, curious.

"I poked them," Harry grinned. "That was before I started getting training, so I was just your average student back then when it came to defence. I didn't know what else to do, so I just kept poking them all with my wand, and red sparks kept shooting out to chase them away."

"You got rid of a group of Grindylows by poking them…" Draco trailed off, then let out a bark of laughter. "You're some bloke, you know."

"So I've been told," Harry replied dryly.

"Harry told me you've done a lot of stuff," Draco said slowly, as though he was unsure how Harry would react. "That you've faced Voldemort, and a Basilisk…"

"I have," Harry nodded, keeping his tone mild so Draco didn't think him annoyed, or whatever he was expecting Harry to be. "Voldemort in my first year – he was after the Philosophers Stone. The Basilisk in my second year… it was being controlled by an _echo_ of Voldemort, so it was technically him again, too. Then there were all the Dementors in third year… they were supposed to be guarding the school, because everyone thought Sirius was a murderer out to kill me. Then fourth year…" Harry trailed off, shuddering. "I don't really want to get into that."

"Wow," Draco whistled. "You've done way more than Longbottom ever has. And you don't even brag about it!"

"Well, it's not like I did it all myself," Harry told him, pulling a face. "There was a lot of luck involved, and a lot of help from friends."

"Still more than Longbottom, though," Draco grinned. "He knows you did all that, and he still tries to annoy you?"

"I'm not sure he believes it," Harry shrugged. "I don't care much. He doesn't really bother me, and it gives me an excuse to carry on practicing my pranking skills. Not good to fall out of practice, you know."

"I'm glad someone can do something to him," Draco said, losing his easy-going tone. "People are so scared of him that they just dance around his every whim…"

"Just wait until there's no more Dark Lord for him to get rid of," Harry told him, trying to ignore the weird feeling in his gut as he said it. "People won't have to keep on his good side then, and hopefully he won't have as much power."

"Hopefully," Draco sighed. "I should be getting back," he said then, standing up. "It's almost curfew."

"I was with Riddle longer than I thought," Harry said, surprised, as he copied the Hufflepuff's motions and stood up, before following the blonde boy back to the castle.

.

The following two weeks sped by quickly, with Harry alternating his time between Riddle, his parents, his friends, and of course, schoolwork. He was shaken awake by an impatient Ron on Christmas morning, and he groggily dressed himself before slipping into the main room to join his friends who were sitting in front of the warm fire. The Christmas tree that had appeared in their room days ago was sparkling as the flames reflected off all the shiny ornaments, and Harry allowed a small smile to grace his lips as he gazed at it before he turned to his friends and frowned.

"All our presents are back home, you know. I'm all for Christmas spirit, but surely we could have had an hours more sleep?"

"We have Firewhiskey," Ron said excitedly, and Harry's frown deepened.

"We do?"

"Cedric bought it," Cho grinned. "Since well… we need something to make today special, since all our families are back home…"

"And you think alcohol will make it special?" Harry asked, amused.

"Of course," Ron grinned. Even Hermione didn't look too disapproving, so Harry shrugged and joined them in front of the fire.

"Do we have any plans for today then, aside from drinking Firewhiskey?" Harry asked, accepting a glass of the alcohol from Cedric with a nod of thanks. He took a sip, and just barely managed to avoid coughing and spluttering as it burned it's way down his throat. Ron and Hermione had less success, and Harry tried to hold back his chuckles as he thumped Ron on the back.

"That's strong," Hermione gasped, her eyes watering.

"You get used to it," Cho assured her, sipping her own calmly. "As for plans, Ron wants to play Quidditch later, but apart from that…"

"We've convinced Hermione to take a break from the library for one day," Ron added, sounding proud, and Hermione threw a dirty look at him, but didn't comment.

"Five days," Harry murmured, taking another sip of his Firewhiskey, and his friends grinned.

"I can't wait to be back," Cho said dreamily, her eyes taking on a far-away look as she remembered her family and fellow Ravenclaw friends. His friends all nodded their agreement with her, but Harry didn't move a muscle. He was desperately eager to see Sirius and Remus again, but he wasn't sure how he was going to react when he saw the Headmaster… or Severus, for that matter, since he'd known too…

"Oi!" Ron was snapping his fingers in front of Harry's face, and he blinked at his friend. "Finally," Ron said, mock-glaring at him. "We're going out to the Quidditch pitch, coming?"

"Ron, it's barely seven!" Harry said exasperatedly.

"It's also Christmas," Cho reminded him with a grin.

"We'll take the Firewhiskey with us," Cedric said, shrinking the bottles he had and tucking them into his pocket.

"What if teachers see us?" Hermione frowned.

"I actually checked with Riddle before I bought it," Cedric admitted. "He said it'd be fine as long as we didn't get too over-excited."

"A _teacher_ said we could?" Hermione asked dazedly, and Ron laughed, although not in a nasty way.

"It's Christmas, 'Mione," Ron said, nudging her. "And we're from another world. They're bound to cut us some slack!"

"I suppose," Hermione nodded slowly.

"Now, come on!" Ron exclaimed, heading towards the door. "I want to play!"

.

As it turned out, it was a lot more difficult to play Quidditch – or to be on a broom at all, really – whilst under the influence of Firewhiskey – which hit you much faster than most normal alcohols – and they soon had to give up and return to the castle. Not to be deterred, though, they eagerly found chess sets and Gobstone sets, and Hermione even found a _Monopoly_ set to introduce everyone to the joys of Muggle games, although it took a few tries for Harry and Hermione to explain the non-wizarding money to everyone. Eventually, when they were sufficiently drunk, they had a Christmas karaoke session, where Ron, Cedric and Cho took the chance to teach Harry and Hermione some of the traditional Wizarding Christmas carols, and they taught the others the words to Jingle Bells, The Twelve Days of Christmas, and Winter Wonderland.

.

The remaining days seem to speed by, with Harry and his friends keeping occupied with further research in the library, games of Quidditch and chess, and mindless banter – and in Harry's case, chatting with his parents, and distancing himself from them again so it would be easier to say goodbye. Eventually, at long last, it was the thirtieth of December, and Harry was awoken to the sounds of excited chattering from his friends.

"There's a Hogsmeade trip!" Ron told him excitedly when Harry joined them in front of the fire.

"For the students that remained over Christmas," Cho nodded. "They don't usually do it, but Riddle said to think of it as a sort of farewell gift!"

"When will the potion be ready?" Harry asked, rubbing at his eyes and trying to waken himself up.

"Seven o'clock," Hermione answered for him.

"I can't wait to get back," Cho sighed.

"Though I think I'll miss this Malfoy," Ron grinned.

"I definitely _won't_ miss Longbottom, though," Harry grinned too. Not that he'd had too much trouble from him recently; although he had also remained in the castle for the holidays – since it was safer for him – Harry and his friends had, for the most part, managed to avoid any run-ins with him.

"Agreed there, mate," Ron nodded cheerfully, before chucking Harry's jacket at him. "Now come on! We want to get to Hogsmeade!"

"We were going to wake you up soon," Cedric told Harry as he wriggled into his jacket.

"I let _you_ lot sleep in when you're tired," Harry scowled, checking that his wand was safely tucked into his wand-holster.

"Yeah but we never sleep in on Hogsmeade weekends," Ron reminded him, turning to lead them all out of the room.

.

The ground was as snowy and slippery as ever, resulting in quite a few falls as the group made their way to Hogsmeade.

"There must be some sort of spell to stop that," Ron grumbled, after slipping again just outside of the Three Broomsticks.

"There probably is," Harry agreed as they followed Cedric to an empty table near the back of the room, passing his parents and Harry*, and Neville and Seamus in the process. "Why don't you look it up?"

"Ron researching a spell is about as likely as Snape getting a fluffy pet rabbit," Cho teased, and Ron scowled at her.

"How do you know Sev doesn't have a fluffy pet rabbit?" Harry asked, keeping his face as serious as possible. "Just because he won't buy one doesn't mean he wouldn't accept one as a gift…"

"Harry," Ron said nervously. "Please tell us you're just kidding."

Harry didn't say a word, instead sitting still and piercing Ron with an even stare.

"Of course he's joking, Ron," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "…Aren't you?" she asked, when Harry still didn't admit to lying.

"Harry, this isn't funny!" Cho warned, looking even more worried now.

"It is," Harry disagreed, not holding back his chuckles now. "Your faces…"

"Very funny, Harry," Cedric said dryly, standing up. "Butterbeer for everyone?" he asked, waiting for everyone to nod before stepping away.

"Look, it's Sirius and Remus," Ron pointed out, and Harry looked away from Cedric to see the two of them, plus Peter Pettigrew, walking towards his parents table with grim faces.

"Oh, dear, they don't look happy, do they?" asked Hermione.

"I wonder what's wrong?" Cho mused, as the four of them watched Pettigrew exchanging hurried words with Lily and James. They, too, lost their easy smiles, and stood up from the table after saying something sternly to Harry*.

"Butterbeer," Cedric announced, reappearing at the table, and Harry turned back around to take a grateful sip of it.

"He's talking to Longbottom," Cho said, brow furrowed.

"He looked worried…" Hermione trailed off.

"Longbottom just looks pissed," Ron added darkly. "Oh, he's coming over."

"What's wrong?" Cedric asked when Harry*, Neville and Seamus reached their table.

"The Order reckons Death Eaters might be coming," Harry* explained. "They don't know for sure, but they want all the students to go back to the castle, anyway."

"We don't even know who's all here, though," Hermione frowned, even as the group stood up, leaving their Butterbeers.

"And what about the villagers?" Cho asked. "Shouldn't they be warned, too?"

"We don't want to cause a panic," Harry* shrugged helplessly. "They've got people Apparating in though, just in case. The villagers should be safe enough if anyone _does_ come…"

"Better go find some students, then," Harry said wearily, wishing, not for the first time, that they had a Hogsmeade version of the Marauders Map. However, before they could move, a dark robed figure entered the pub, his face covered in a familiar white mask…

"I think the Order was right," Ron said nervously, stating the obvious, even as the two Harry's simultaneously shot stunners at the Death Eater. The whole pub broke out into chaos then, with people knocking over tables and chairs in their hurry to get out, and Harry could hear shouts out in the street, and then the yells of people throwing spells…

"I don't believe it," Cho was muttering as the group made their way cautiously to the door. "Two Hogsmeade visits in a row…"

"We need to get back to the castle," Harry* told them quietly as they stood by the door, the last group of people in the pub. "They'll only be after Longbottom. If we get him back, they'll leave…"

"And just how do you plan on getting back, without us all getting killed?" Neville asked angrily.

"There's the secret passageway in Honeydukes," Harry suggested. "That's where we sent the students when our Hogsmeade was attacked. It's quicker than running to the castle."

"We'll still have to fight our way past Death Eaters," Neville pointed out.

"Well it's not like we can just Apparate there, Longbottom," Ron snapped, and Harry raised his eyebrows at him. Ron gave him a sheepish grin.

"Sirius," Cedric said suddenly, pointing out the window, where Sirius was surrounded by four Death Eaters. Harry exchanged the briefest of glances with his counterpart before they both stepped out of the pub, ignoring the Death Eaters nearer them, and aiming stunners at the ones surrounding Sirius. Three of them fell, and Sirius shot them a quick thumbs up before stunning his own and jogging over to them.

"You need to get back to the castle," he said firmly, locking gazes with Harry*.

"I know. Mum and Dad already said," Harry* reassured him.

"Look out!" Hermione cried out worriedly, and Sirius threw up a shield in time to deflect the stunners that had been aimed at the two Harry's.

"They've spotted Longbottom," Harry* murmured, backing up slightly as a large group of eight or nine Death Eaters started walking briskly towards them, shouting to the others as they did. Out of nowhere, it seemed, several Order members, plus the remaining Marauders and Lily, appeared, blocking Neville from sight. The Death Eaters took that as their cue to start fighting, and a second later Harry felt almost blinded by all the spells that were flashing around.

"Grab Longbottom and _go_," Remus commanded urgently, appearing out of nowhere to give Harry a quick push. Harry nodded, though he hadn't a clue where Neville had went, and started to turn around to look – and stopped, for a scarily familiar green light had just hit Remus… ignoring the spells flying overhead, Harry knelt down and touched his fingers to Remus's neck, feeling for a pulse…

There wasn't one.

"Come on, Harry!" Cedric yelled, appearing at Harry's side and pulling him away. "We've got Longbottom, we need to move!"

"But Remus…"

"He'll just be stunned, he'll be fine," Cedric said, slightly impatiently, pulling Harry along behind him, leaving Remus lying there…

"Stunners aren't green," Harry murmured, and Cedric abruptly stopped, turning to face him. "And they don't leave you without a pulse…"

"We need to move," Cedric repeated, sounding far less firm now than he had a minute ago. "Honeydukes… we still have to get Longbottom back."

"Yeah…"

"Snap out of it, Harry," Cedric suddenly commanded, his voice firm once more. "You still managed to think clearly at the graveyard -" Harry flinched – "and you can manage it now. _We need to get everyone away!_"

"Yeah," Harry said, sounding more like himself after Cedric's harsh words. "Back to the castle. Then the Death Eaters will leave. Right." Cedric let go of his arm, then, and Harry quickly followed him until they reached their friends, who were duelling with a couple of Death Eaters.

"Stupefy!" Cedric shouted, and one of the Death Eaters dropped. The other dropped soon after, having been distracted enough by Cedric's voice to let his guard down against Hermione.

"Keep moving," Harry* ordered, pointing the group towards Honeydukes, and Neville started up a brisk pace towards the shop. Thankfully, they reached the shop without any further trouble, and they wasted no time in ducking into the secret passageway.

"Should we seal the door?" Hermione asked once they were all safely in, and Harry* shook his head.

"The Death Eaters don't know about it, and Mum and Dad might tell some of the students to come this way. Everyone alright?"

"We should keep moving," Harry said quietly, before anyone had a chance to reply, and without waiting to see if everyone agreed with him, he started moving up the passageway. "It's safer here than out there, but it'll be safer still when we're actually inside the castle." He had to move… if he didn't move, he had to think, and he didn't want to think, not when images of Viktor's and Remus's dead faces kept popping up to taunt him…

"Harry," Cedric said softly, reaching out to touch his arm –

"No," Harry breathed, wrenching his arm away. "You pulled me away from him… I could've helped him…"

"You can't help a dead person."

"What do you mean?" Cho asked, looking between them. "Someone… died?"

"Not here -" Cedric began, but Harry didn't let him finish.

"Remus." He said the word softly, and kept his gaze on the other Harry as he said it. "I'm sorry," he told the boy quietly, before turning around to continue leading everyone back to the castle.

Not another single word was spoken for the remainder of the journey.

.

By the time seven o'clock arrived, Harry hadn't uttered a single word, and he remained silent as the group of friends made their way towards the Headmaster's office. Once there, Harry found himself engulfed in a tight hug from Lily.

"Goodbye, Harry," she whispered sadly, before pulling back to cup his cheek gently. "You're a good boy, and even if you are from another world, you make me feel proud. I'm sure the same can be said of your own Lily and James, too."

"Thanks," Harry murmured, the first word he had said since the passageway.

"Keep safe," James said to him, giving Harry his second hug of the evening. "Lily's right. We _are_ proud of you. Don't forget that."

Harry nodded, stepping away when James released him, and then turned to his friends, although he was once again thinking of Remus, and how nice it was that even though his parents were clearly upset and grieving their friend, they'd still managed to come to say goodbye to him…

Harry blinked when he felt Ron pulling him to the middle of the room, giving Riddle an apologetic look when he realised the Headmaster had obviously been talking to them, and Harry had zoned out. Riddle gave him a reassuring smile, turned to Slughorn, and then they were covered in the sticky potion that had been thrown over them after their capture back home. Slughorn gave them a little wave, and then Riddle had his eyes closed and his wand pointing at them, chanting quietly, concentrating deeply on the spell he was casting.

The glowing light was back, getting brighter and brighter, blinding Harry, engulfing them all…

Then everything was black.

* * *

Hey guys. Started back at school on Wednesday, which is lame. Haven't had any writing time :/ Not to mention I developed writers block with chapter 18 last Monday anyway, so even if I had time I probably wouldn't get much written, pah.

Hopefully next weekend I'll manage to finish off chapter 18. I don't want to fall behind too much.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Sorry if there are any glaringly obvious mistakes or whatever, I haven't actually gotten around to proof-reading it and don't have the energy now but I feel bad making you wait too long, so yeah.

Last thing, do any of you listen to Skillet? They're a Christian rock band. Their new album comes out this Wednesday, but all the songs were leaked on youtube, and they're AMAZING! You don't have to be a Christian to like them -- I'm not religious at ALL, I don't really believe in God -- so if you haven't heard them before you should go check out their 'Comatose' or 'Awake' cds, cause those two are the best :)


	18. Home

**HP Year 5: Let the War Begin  
**_Chapter 17_

When Harry next opened his eyes, he was lying in a tangled heap with his friends on the floor of Dumbledore's office, with Dumbledore himself standing very near them, peering at them concernedly.

"Are you all alright?" he asked, when they finally managed to pull away from each other and stand in the office.

"We're fine, sir," Cedric assured him, and Harry felt a bit annoyed that Cedric was willing to be spokesperson _now_, after Harry had been forced to do all the talking with Riddle at first. And then, those thoughts drifted from his head as Harry remembered he was supposed to be annoyed at Dumbledore for not telling him about the prophecy before…

But it was too hard to be annoyed when the memory of Remus lying on the ground was still so fresh in his head.

"Harry?" Dumbledore's soft voice cut through Harry's thoughts, and Harry blinked up at the Headmaster in surprise. Had Dumbledore asked something? "I suspect you're far too distracted to be answering curious questions at the moment," Dumbledore said kindly after gazing at Harry for a long moment. "I expect Sirius and Remus are in their Quarters, if you would like to see them."

"Yes, sir," Harry murmured politely, not daring to try and hold any sort of conversation with Dumbledore at the moment. Or, indeed, anyone. He had watched Remus die, and no matter that _his_ Remus was alive, it had still been completely devastating to see, and to know he had failed to help him… and he had said goodbye to his parents, whom he would never see again now, and no matter that he should be grateful to have had the chance to meet them at all, he still felt like he had lost something in coming back… and now he had to hide his anger at the Headmaster until he was ready to talk about the prophecy with him… and he had to figure out how to tell Sirius and Remus that he would have to become a murderer…

No, he didn't think he stood a very good chance of holding a decent sort of conversation with anyone at the moment.

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Harry realised he was walking along the corridor outside of Dumbledore's office with his friends, and wondered how he had managed to make it all the way here without noticing.

"We're going to the kitchens, mate," Ron said, noticing that Harry was paying attention to them again. "You coming? Or are you going straight to Sirius and Remus?"

"I should go see Sirius and Remus," Harry decided, just as they reached the stairs that would take his friends down to the necessary floor for the kitchens. "I'll see you later."

.

After his friends had left, Harry turned around and made his way slowly to his guardians rooms. It had been almost a month since he had seen them… it felt like so much longer, especially after everything that had happened… torture, another world, his parents… the prophecy… _Remus_…

"Harry!" Sirius cried out excitedly when Harry opened the door. Then, before he could take more than two steps into the room, Harry found himself engulfed in a warm hug.

"We weren't expecting you back until later, cub," Remus said, and his gentle smile and soft voice was almost enough to break Harry.

"What's wrong, kiddo?" Sirius asked instantly, noticing Harry's face falling.

"He's gone pale… sit him down, Sirius," Remus told Sirius, and Harry felt himself being guided over to one of the big sofas, and then Sirius and Remus sitting on either side of him.

"Should we get a potion for him?" Sirius asked worriedly.

"We can't, not unless we know what's wrong," Remus shook his head. "Harry?"

"I'm okay," Harry said in a small voice which, of course, did nothing to reassure his guardians. "I'm not ill, anyway," he said in a slightly firmer tone as he tried to grab control of his emotions. "Just…"

"Just…?" Sirius prodded, and Harry shook his head slightly, turning his gaze to Remus.

"We went to Hogsmeade today," Harry said hesitantly. "It was attacked… they killed you, Moony…"

"I'm right here, cub," Remus said reassuringly, pulling Harry into another hug.

"It was still you," Harry said quietly. "Another version of you… right in front of me… I didn't stop it…"

"Harry, if you could have, you would have," Sirius said firmly. "It isn't your fault. And Moony's still alive, here. He's not going anywhere."

"It was like Viktor all over again," Harry said, shuddering and pulling away from Remus. He knew he was being silly; it wasn't like he had lost _his_ Remus. It was just hard to get the image out of his head…

Still, though, he felt better now than he had all day, just being with Remus. It made what had happened only hours ago feel more like a distant dream. Indeed, the whole month was starting to feel surreal in his mind, like a complex dream or hallucination.

"I'm okay now," he told his guardians, giving them a small smile to reassure them. "I think I was just half-expecting to come back here and find you dead, too…"

"I'm not going anywhere," Remus assured him with a gentle smile. His eyes, though, held doubt, and Harry didn't miss the look Remus exchanged with Sirius, but he wasn't too worried about it. He _would_ be fine. He had proof Remus was alive. A few days, and maybe he would convince himself it _was_ all just a dream.

"Were _you_ hurt in the attack?" Sirius asked suddenly, and Harry frowned as he thought back. He certainly didn't remember being hit with anything, and he hadn't felt any pain since he got back to the castle…

"No," he shook his head slightly, and relaxed further into the sofa, sinking into its softness. "It was mainly the villagers who were hurt, but none of the injuries were serious…" he could remember Cedric telling that to the others at some point. "Can we just… talk about other stuff? Happier stuff… Christmas! What did you do?"

"Got drunk with Tonks," Sirius said, smiling fondly at the memory. "Gave us all killer hangovers though…"

"What about you?" Remus asked curiously.

"Quidditch, games, sung Christmas carols… and, well… we might have had some Firewhiskey…"

"No need to look so worried," Sirius assured him cheerfully. "It'd be awfully hypocritical of us to be mad at you. Wasn't it a bit strong for you, though?"

"Got used to it after a few drinks," Harry shrugged.

"What about hangovers?" Remus asked, peering at him as though expecting Harry to suddenly develop a blinding headache, never mind that he'd drunk the stuff days ago…

"None of us had one," Harry informed his guardians cheerfully. It was easier to be happy when he wasn't thinking about the Hogsmeade attack. "Looks like it's just you old people that get them."

"We're not old!" Sirius protested

"Of course not," Harry grinned, sticking his tongue out cheekily, before yawning widely. And damn, that felt good. Play-fighting with Sirius, _his_ Sirius. He had really missed that.

"Bedtime!" Sirius said instantly, and Harry raised an eyebrow in a good imitation of Severus.

"Sirius… it's barely after eight."

"But you're tired."

"But it's early."

"But you're _tired_."

"Harry doesn't have to go to sleep if he doesn't want to, Padfoot," Remus broke in. "And time shouldn't matter to you, Harry. It may be early, but there's nothing wrong with an early night."

"I'll go soon," Harry relented. "But I've not seen either of you in almost a month… can you blame me for wanting to stay up?"

"We understand," Remus assured him. "However, we would be happier if you _did_ sleep. You're obviously tired, and you've been through a lot – you need to rest."

"Fine," Harry bit out, letting some of his anger leak out as his mood shifted. Both his guardians looked a bit surprised at his tone, but neither of them said anything as Harry left them to go to his bedroom. He didn't even bother changing – he couldn't really find the energy to – before climbing into his bed, torn between feeling angry, and feeling guilty. Angry at anything and everything, and guilty that he had started taking it out on Sirius and Remus.

Not to mention the guilt of having not saved Remus… or even Viktor, back in the graveyard…

It had been five months since Viktor was killed. Five whole months… and, really, apart from the first month, Harry hadn't thought about him much… Viktor, who had died feeling guilty. Of all the things to feel before dying, he had felt guilt… since he had been one of the ones to take them there, having forced Harry to touch the cup, under the control of the Imperius curse… it hadn't been Viktor's fault, not at all, but Harry hadn't really had the chance to convince him of that fact before he had been struck by the green light…

The same green light that, mere hours ago, struck another world's Remus Lupin right in front of Harry's eyes…

And he'd been unable to save either of them.

All this training… what was it for? If it couldn't help him to save the people he cared about, then really, what was the point? Two people in the space of five months had been killed _right in front of his eyes_, and both times he hadn't been able to do _anything_.

And if he couldn't save people from Death Eaters, how was he supposed to save them from Voldemort?

Never mind saving people… how was he supposed to defeat Voldemort? Yes, the man was a sick, disgusting, relentless, murderous bastard, but to defeat him would still be killing him… still committing a murder… snuffing out a human (well, partly-human) life with his own hands…

But how could he _not_ kill Voldemort, if he was really the only one who could? If he didn't kill him, the monster would just carry on torturing people for fun… would carry on killing everyone he deemed as worthless (which was a _lot_ of people). So what if Harry was just a kid, still? It wasn't like the prophecy cared about that little fact… and the longer he put off killing Voldemort, the more people would be tortured or killed in the meantime.

Although, really, he couldn't even kill him yet, could he? They still had to find all the Horcruxes and destroy them first.

Not to mention the serious effort he was going to have to put into his training now. Not that he'd ever slacked off, of course, but now that he knew he would have to kill Voldemort… well, he could only just hold his own against the weaker Death Eaters at the moment, so he would really need to work at it before he could kill Voldemort…

Sighing, Harry turned his attention to his Occlumency shields and attempted to bury his thoughts under it so he could get at least a few hours of sleep before facing Sirius and Remus again.

.

_The_ _sky was dark, the grass damp under Harry's bare feet._ _Voldemort was at the opposite end of the graveyard, not that there were many tombstones left; rather, bodies littered the ground, and the mist that had been floating around, Harry suddenly realised, had a green hue to it. Trying not to think about what that might mean, Harry raised his wand, somehow keeping his arm steady as he aimed it at Voldemort._

_ "Going to kill me, Harry?" Voldemort mocked in his high-pitched voice. "Kill me like you killed your friends?"_

_ "I…" Harry faltered._

_ "You don't have the courage," Voldemort taunted, his lips curling into a nasty smile. "Nor the skill… not against me. Unlike your friends, I can defend myself."_

_ "I didn't…" Harry shook his head, and his arm fell to his side. "I didn't mean… my friends…"_

_ "Didn't mean to kill us?" Viktor sneered, his pearly-white body floating up from the ground, and Harry took a step back._

_ "I tried to save you…"_

_ "No, you didn't, Harry." It was Remus this time, his voice dripping with disappointment. "You didn't try. You stood there, and you let it happen."_

_ "As you will continue to do," Severus smirked, joining the other two ghosts. "You won't rest, not until you have gotten rid of every last one of us."_

_ "You're lying!" Harry gasped, stumbling back, and falling as he tripped over Nagini, who curled herself tightly around Harry's body, too tight… _

_ "How could you do this to us?" Ron asked angrily, appearing from nowhere. "You kill us, and then you don't even have the courage to kill You-Know-Who! What about the prophecy?"_

_ "I want to…"_

_ "Bollocks!" Ron shouted angrily. "You don't want to, you're too scared. Scared to become a murderer. Well guess what, mate? You already are one!"_

_ "But I'm not!" Harry protested. "I didn't kill any of you…"_

_ "You didn't utter the curse," Viktor agreed._

_ "But neither did you stop it," finished Remus._

_ "You're as bad as he is," Ron told him disgustedly, motioning over to where Voldemort was sitting, and Harry couldn't even reply now, couldn't breathe, because Nagini was squeezing him so tight… she was going to kill him…_

_._

Harry awoke with a strangled gasp, sucking in deep gulps of air as he attempted to get his breath back. He stayed like that for a few minutes, just lying still and focusing on his breathing, before pushing himself into a sitting position. _What the hell?_ Had he been holding his breath or something? Or subconsciously strangling himself? Knowing that there was no chance he was getting anymore sleep tonight, Harry slipped out of bed and padded through to the next room and settled himself comfortably on the sofa after starting up a small fire in the fireplace. According to the small clock on the wall, it was almost twenty past six. Still early… it would be awhile before Sirius and Remus were up.

"Harry?"

Or not.

"You shouldn't be up so early," Harry admonished, trying to distract Remus, even though he knew it wouldn't work.

"The full moon's coming up soon," Remus reminded him, settling on the sofa beside Harry. "It heightens my senses."

"Oh…" So it was Harry who had woken Remus up. "Sorry."

"That's alright, Harry," Remus assured him with a smile. "Nightmares?"

"Yeah… um, I'm sorry for, you know, snapping earlier…"

"You've been through a lot," Remus shrugged. "All things considered, I think you're handling yourself pretty well."

"Mm," Harry said, pursing his lips. He wasn't so sure he agreed.

"Want to talk about what's bothering you?" Remus asked, and he sounded more like Sirius with his forwardness. Still, Harry _did_ want to talk. He'd missed being able to talk with his guardians. For all that it had taken him a long time to fully trust and open up to them, he felt lost without them now. However… he wasn't sure _what_ was bothering him most, to try and talk. His guilt? The fact that he sort of missed his parents? Of course, they weren't _his_… but he had grown used to having them around, and them treating him sort of like family. The prophecy…? Thinking of the prophecy brought up the strongest emotions in him, so perhaps _that_ was what was bothering him most… the fact he hadn't been told about it, the fact that it destined him to become a murderer.

"Did you know there was a prophecy about me and Voldemort?"

"I knew there was _a_ prophecy," Remus frowned. "Sirius and I were never given details. We assumed it was linked to James or Lily, and that's why they went into hiding."

"It's about me," Harry said quietly. "It could have been about Neville… _was_ about Neville, in that other world… 'Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...' Riddle told me. A headmaster from a different world trusted me with something that affects my life more than Dumbledore did…"

"He must have his reasons for keeping you in the dark," Remus tried to pacify him, but since Harry could hear the skepticism in Remus's voice, it didn't really work.

"I don't care what his reasons were," Harry said, shaking his head and trying to keep a leash on his anger, since he didn't want to snap at Remus again. "It's about _me_. About my _life_. My future. Because of it, my parents died, and he still didn't tell me it! You want to know what it says, Moony? It says I have to kill Voldemort… kill him, or be killed."

"What?" Remus asked, unable to hide all of the shock in his tone.

"'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…'" Harry recited. "'Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord shall mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live whilst the other survives..'."

"Are you sure the prophecy is the same here?" Remus asked, sounding deeply unsettled.

"Yeah," Harry nodded, trying not to fidget under Remus's intense gaze. "Remember back when Sev went all funny, and I had to help fix his memories? I saw something… he heard part of the prophecy."

"And you never thought to mention this to anyone?" Remus frowned.

"I didn't know it was about me," Harry shrugged. "It was only the very start of the prophecy he heard. It didn't strike me as terribly important, until I heard the full thing. Plus, I felt bad, since it was an accident I saw that memory anyway."

"You won't have to do it alone," Remus murmured, trying to ignore his own emotions and figure out which part of the prophecy was bothering Harry.

"Technically, I do," Harry disagreed. "I already had this chat with Riddle. Sure, I'll have people by my side, but they wouldn't be able to kill Voldemort. Just his stupid Death Eaters… it's _me_ who has to kill him in the end… me who has to become a murderer… but," he added, sensing Remus was about to try and comfort him, even though he really couldn't unless he had the power to change prophecies, "we can't do anything like that anytime soon, either. Have you ever heard of a Horcrux?"

"Yes," Remus admitted reluctantly, sounding wary of where this was headed.

"He made some-"

"_Some_?" Remus asked sharply, and Harry raised his own startled eyes to see Remus's fierce ones.

"Seven, Dumbledore thinks."

"Good Merlin!"

"What?" Harry frowned.

"To make seven… it's practically unheard of to even make _one_."

"Well… Voldemort's more powerful than the average wizard, isn't he?"

"It's not about power, cub," Remus shook his head. "To make a Horcrux… it's _very_ Dark magic. It tears the soul apart. If he has seven Horcruxes, then he's torn his soul into _eight_ pieces."

"He's torn his _soul_?" Harry asked, feeling faintly sick. Muggles didn't talk about souls much, really, but in the wizarding world souls were important, magical… and definitely not torn up. "Riddle didn't tell me that part…"

"Hence why it's extremely _Dark_ magic. Most people know better than to tamper with their souls. There are only a few documented cases of wizards creating Horcruxes, and the last one was created over two hundred years ago."

"Because nobody was stupid or powerful enough, or because people didn't know how?" Harry wondered aloud.

"The latter, I think," Remus answered. "It was banned from all books. I can't imagine where Voldemort learned how to create them…"

"He isn't the _Dark_ Lord for no reason," Harry muttered, gazing into the fire. Remus chuckled.

"Yes, I suppose you're right," he agreed, and Harry frowned at the tiredness he could hear in his guardian's voice.

"Moony, you should get some sleep," Harry said softly. "With the full moon so soon… you need your rest."

"It's nearing the time I usually wake up at anyway," Remus smiled.

"Then sleep in!" Harry protested.

"You realise I've still had more sleep than you have?"

"_I_ don't need it as much as you do, and you know it," Harry glowered. Then he sighed. "If I go back to sleep, will you?"

"Maybe."

"Sleep it is, then," Harry decided, trying not to sound too reluctant. However, when Remus followed Harry into his room to make sure he did get comfy in his bed again, the older man handed Harry a vial of familiar potion.

"Dreamless sleep," Remus said, and that was all Harry needed to hear before downing the vile thing. Remus chuckled at Harry's face of disgust, then took his glasses from his face to set them on the little bedside table. "Sleep well, cub," Remus said quietly, but Harry missed it as he was already sleeping.

.

"For goodness sake, Sirius, he's only just back! Do you really think he needs to hear about _this_ of all things?"

"I don't see why you don't want him to know," Sirius returned, although his amused and smug tone clearly said that Sirius _did_ know.

"You know perfectly well why!" Tonks snapped back, sounding highly irritated. "As if all _your_ teasing isn't bad enough!"

"Who says Harry will even tease you?" Sirius asked.

Finally giving up on blocking out the annoying voices, Harry pulled himself out of bed and changed into his clothes as their argument continued.

"Come on, Sirius," Tonks said angrily. "I know all about the Marauder lessons you two have been giving him! You're turning him into a little mischief maker. Of _course_ he's going to join in!"

"Why are you so annoyed about it, anyway?" Sirius asked, sounding genuinely confused. "You don't usually get your knickers in such a twist about something as simple as teasing."

There was a loud sigh, and feeling immensely curious – and not wanting to listen to Sirius and Tonks snapping at each other anymore – Harry finally ventured out of his room, silencing the two instantly.

"Harry!" Tonks exclaimed brightly, all trace of her earlier irritation gone as she pounced forwards to hug him. "How are you?"

"Better," Harry answered, hugging her back. "The long sleep helped. So, what's this about me getting to tease you?"

"You heard us?" Tonks asked, sighing in resignation.

"You woke me up, you were so loud! So, what is it?"

"Our dear Nymphadora here has found herself a boyfriend!" Sirius grinned, ducking as Tonks moved to slap him over the head.

"Really?" Harry asked, grinning despite himself. "Who?"

"Moony!" Sirius told him brightly, and Harry frowned.

"No, really. Who is it?"

"Moony!" Sirius repeated, slightly less brightly this time.

"You're serious." Harry shook his head, looking at Tonks who was looking vaguely worried. When he realised Tonks was probably thinking he didn't support the relationship, he hastily rearranged his face into a happy one. At least, he thought it was happy. He wasn't against it, but really…

"Didn't see that one coming," he said lightly, managing to properly grin when Sirius's and Tonks's faces relaxed. "Although, the fact that it's Moony sort of ruins the whole 'protective nephew' thing I should have had going…"

Sirius snorted, and Tonks chuckled.

"He's too much of a gentleman for _anyone_ to need protection against."

"Don't be so sure," Sirius warned, wagging his finger at her. "I've seen him get aggressive with _plenty_ of ladies."

"Death Eaters don't count, Padfoot," Tonks grinned, moving over to the sofa to sit.

"Where _is _Moony, anyway?" Harry asked, joining his honorary aunt on the couch. Instantly, both the adult's faces darkened. "Did something happen?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"He's talking with Dumbledore," Tonks supplied after a moment of tense silence.

"…oh." More silence. "What about?"

"He didn't say." It was Sirius answering this time. "Just that you talked to him last night, and that Dumbledore was a fool. I don't think I've _ever_ heard him insult Dumbledore before," he mused, sounding almost proud. Then his face darkened again. "Whatever it is, Remus is _pissed_. Don't suppose you know why?"

"Ah…"

"You _do_ know," Tonks decided, twisting around on the sofa to face him more fully. "What is it?"

"It's… um…"

He was spared having to answer by the door banging open, and a very irritated Remus stalking into the room. Werewolves were more emotional near the full moon, and Harry wondered if that was affecting Remus at all, or if he really was just unusually angry. Before he had much time to ponder this, Remus had spotted him and softened his face.

"You okay?" Harry asked uncertainly, wondering how much of Remus's anger was truly gone.

"I'm fine, cub," Remus assured him, his voice sounding as calm as ever. "The Headmaster would like to talk to you when you feel up to it," he added, sounding as though it pained him to have to let Harry go near Dumbledore at all.

"Did he have good reasons, then?" Harry asked, already knowing the answer. Sirius and Tonks just looked confused as they looked between Harry and Remus.

"It all boiled down to him thinking it was for your own good," Remus sighed, moving over to the chair nearest the fire.

"It probably was, in his own way," Harry pointed out, and then frowned as he realised he was defending the very man he was so annoyed with. Then again, it was harder to hear other people insult the man who he (usually) looked up to so much than it was for Harry himself to insult the man.

"Don't make excuses for him, Harry," Remus shook his head. "Considering it, as you said, affects your whole life… he shouldn't have kept it from you. Certainly not for this long."

"Would someone _please_ tell me what's going on?" Tonks bit out, and Remus gave her a sheepish look.

"Harry?" Remus prodded, but Harry shook his head.

"No way, Moony. It'll take too long to explain, and I'm hungry, and I want to see Dumbledore."

"Are you alright?" Remus asked, concerned now, and Harry did his best to smile reassuringly.

"Still a little tired," he shrugged. "Honestly, I'll just be glad to get some answers – hopefully honest ones – from Dumbledore."

.

Harry hadn't merely been lying to get out of having to explain the prophecy and Horcruxes to Sirius and Tonks, although he supposed he might have lied if he didn't have readily available excuses. He'd been calmer last night, when talking to Remus, since he'd been half asleep and still had the nightmare fresh in his mind, but today he was full of energy and with a clear head, and he was actually feeling okay, and he knew discussing it all _again_ would simply put him in a bad mood.

And he didn't want to have a bad mood around Sirius and Tonks. Partially because they didn't deserve it, and partially because he wanted to keep all his anger bottled within himself to show Dumbledore just what he had done.

Of course, that was completely immature and childish, not to mention stupid and rude and extremely disrespectful, and maybe ungrateful, considering all that Dumbledore _had_ done for him in previous years, but… honestly, Harry was sick of having to think like a mature adult all the time. For once, he wanted to just be a teenager, be his _age_, and damn the consequences. Besides, even Remus was annoyed, and he _was_ a mature adult, one of the most mature adults Harry knew, and the prophecy didn't even affect _his_ life – not as directly as it did Harry. So, really, if Remus had the right to be angry – full moon aside – Harry didn't see why he himself didn't.

So, he chomped his way through sandwiches in the kitchens, managing to remain polite with the House Elves, despite how annoyingly incessant they were with their happiness to see him returned healthy and whole, and then walked as calmly – and quickly – as he could to Dumbledore's office. It wouldn't do to storm in angrily, after all. Perhaps the man _did_ have good reasons, even if Remus seemingly disagreed. Despite all his anger, Harry knew that he _did_ have to give Dumbledore a chance. So he took in deep, calming breaths as he made his way up the spiralling staircase, paused for a moment at the top to make sure his anger wasn't showing, and then knocked sharply on the door.

.

"Good afternoon, Harry," Dumbledore greeted with a smile, although Harry – who was getting steadily better at reading people, even the ones really skilled at hiding their emotions – could see that he was wary of how Harry was going to act.

"Hello, Professor," Harry greeted as politely as he could, making sure his tone was neither friendly nor unfriendly as he settled in one of the chairs opposite the Headmaster. An uncomfortable silence stretched between them, with Dumbledore seemingly waiting for Harry to make the first move. So he did. "Why?" Harry asked. "It's about _me_. I can understand not telling me at first, sort of. Voldemort was dead, although I'm sure you had your suspicions he might arise again – hence the training. But after he _did_ return… _he_ obviously knows about the prophecy, and since it states I have to kill him, didn't I have the right to know?"

"I was trying to protect you, Harry," Dumbledore said quietly, leaning forward over his desk. "I knew that if I were to tell you the prophecy, you would think it your responsibility to rid the world of him, and that is extra pressure that you simply don't need."

"I don't think it, I know it," Harry shot back. "Or do you think it's possible to go against fate?"

"No," Dumbledore shook his head. "It is impossible to defy a prophecy. However, you are misunderstanding your role. You do not have to kill Voldemort on your own."

"I know that, Professor," Harry sighed. "People have told me often enough. I'll still have people by my side. But _they_ won't be the ones to kill Voldemort. Were you just going to wait until the night before I faced him to tell me I would have to become a murderer? You can try and coddle all you like, sir, it doesn't stop that fact being true. In the end, it has to be _me_ who destroys him." Harry's anger was starting to show now. "And you wouldn't even tell me."

"I would have, eventually," Dumbledore disagreed. "When you had less stress – when you were more ready."

"I'm not going to get _less_ stress until this war's over!" Harry reminded him sharply. "Voldemort's just warming up. You know it, and I know it. How can you say things would get _less_ stressful?"

Dumbledore didn't seem to have an answer to that, realising there was more truth to Harry's words than either of them wished to believe. Not that Dumbledore was naïve enough to have ever thought otherwise, but he hadn't expected Harry to understand that much so soon. Harry barely held back a smile when he realised he had managed to surprise Dumbledore; that Dumbledore had underestimated him. However, Harry was starting to realise something, as he watched Dumbledore, with his kind face and regretful eyes. Yeah, he had kept something important from Harry. Yeah, his reasons for it were kind of pathetic. But, since when had Dumbledore ever did anything with the _intention_ to hurt Harry, or put him at an advantage, or whatever? Did he _really_ deserve Harry's anger? He was finding it harder and harder to say that he did.

"Do you know anything about the power the prophecy mentions?" Harry asked, moving on. He hadn't forgiven Dumbledore, but neither was he going to start shouting angrily at him. For now.

"At the moment, I am as clueless as anyone," Dumbledore said regretfully as he shook his head. "Prophecies are tricky to interpret."

"Not this one," Harry said bluntly. "It's easy to interpret. We understand it well enough. We just don't know what it's referring to." He stood up. "Was there anything else?"

"Yes, actually. Headmaster Riddle and I came up with an answer for Voldemort's rebirth -"

"The Horcruxes."

"How did you know?"

"Riddle told me. He believes in giving, rather than withholding, information. He said you thought Voldemort made seven. Remus explained more about Horcruxes to me last night."

"You told Remus?"

"I told my friends, when we were still stuck in that other world, and I told Remus, and he'll tell Sirius and Tonks. I get that Voldemort can't know we know, but I trust my friends and family, sir."

"One last thing, Harry," Dumbledore said when Harry turned around and headed to the door. "Remus mentioned that you saw the beginning of the prophecy in a memory of Professor Snape's. He did not hide the prophecy from you; he heard only the first lines. I never told him the rest of it."

Well, at least he didn't have to be angry at Sev.

"Goodbye, sir," Harry said, just barely keeping his tone polite, needing to get away and rethink his feelings regarding Dumbledore.

.

The lake sounded as good a place as any for some quiet thinking time, so Harry made his way there. He took his time walking the halls, enjoying the feel of Hogwart's familiar magic washing over him. He wasn't usually aware of it, but having been in a _different_ Hogwarts for the past month, he was a bit more sensitive to the feel now. He sighed when he spotted Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle entering the door he was about to leave, but didn't stop. Even if Malfoy dared to attack him, he could handle the blonde boy easily. It didn't stop the wave of unease he felt when Malfoy stopped to watch Harry approaching him.

"So what was it like, Potter?" Malfoy sneered when Harry tried to brush past him. "Finally getting to meet those losers you call parents."

"Not _nearly_ as interesting as it was getting to meet your Hufflepuff counterpart," Harry snapped, not in the mood to play games. Not waiting for a reply – not even turning to look at Malfoy's surprised face – Harry managed to escape out of the castle, and thankfully found the lake free of people. It _was_ winter, he supposed; who in their right minds actually wanted to sit on cold ground beside a frozen body of water?

Even so, Harry kept the Marauders Map open on the ground in front of him, weighed down with a charm incase the wind decided to try and blow it away. Better safe than sorry, after all, considering the last time he'd relaxed outside the castle walls he'd been captured and sent to another world completely. He was still struggling to accept the fact that he was definitely home and safe, now. After his sleep, he felt a lot better about the situation – thanks to his ability to mostly keep his distance between himself and his parents, he didn't miss them too dreadfully much, and having had a nice, deep conversation with Remus last night, he was starting to get over his emotions regarding the death of the other Remus. A quick recovery, but then he supposed he must have gotten used to recovering quickly from emotional situations by now. With everything he had had to go through in the past fifteen years… if he still remained hung up on everything like a soppy Hufflepuff (he held nothing against Hufflepuffs, but it was true that they _were_ more emotional) he'd have tried to off himself by now, or else been thrown into a hospital for insane people.

Well, there was still time for that, Harry supposed. After all, things were only going to get worse from now on. He reckoned he could keep out of Voldemort's head now, but he was under no illusions that he would be safe from everything else. The way his luck worked out, he'd be in another meeting with the Dark Lord sooner than he cared to be, and he wouldn't be so lucky to merely be sent away next time. He was either going to have to get lucky enough to escape again, or else somehow kill Voldemort, which meant he had to figure out what the Horcruxes might be, and somehow find – or hope Dumbledore found – what this secret power of his was.

Which brought him back to the reason he'd come out to the lake in the first place. Dumbledore. Was he angry or not? He was… annoyed, certainly, that Dumbledore had withheld such important information. All this time he'd been thinking Voldemort had just been trying to kill him because he was unlucky enough to have been a freaky baby, and in reality it was all because of a prophecy. It explained his scar, too, since it was probably the 'mark' the prophecy spoke of.

If only the secret power part was as easy to figure out.

Still, having managed to see Sirius and Remus and Tonks, and talk with Dumbledore… he felt a lot less mad. He'd missed his family whilst away, which had made his temper a bit short, anyway. There was a good chance he'd overreacted about the whole thing. Not that Dumbledore was right to have done what he did… but he didn't necessarily deserve lots of anger, either. The man wasn't perfect, he made mistakes, just like any normal person. Of course, it was easier to be angry at normal people, since they didn't demand as much respect as Dumbledore did.

Harry sighed, and rubbed at his head. It was too much. He just wanted to settle back into being home, and _then_ he could decide how he really felt about Dumbledore. Two approaching dots on the Marauders Map caught his attention, and he grinned when he noticed the names of Fred and George Weasley. Deciding he wanted a laugh, he rolled the map up and Disillusioned himself, then cast a charm on himself to make him light so he didn't leave marks in the snow when he moved. He waited until the twins were near him before waving his wand and, with a whispered incantation, covered the two in snow from head to two, making them look like badly-made, moving snowmen. Both of them promptly fell with the unexpected extra weight of the snow, and Harry cancelled the charms on himself, chuckling. At least, he was chuckling until a well-aimed snowball found it's way into his mouth. Then he was just choking.

"Good to have you back, Harry," the twins chimed, looking smug that they had gotten Harry back so quickly.

.

Harry spent that night with Sirius, Remus and Tonks, where the four of them celebrated the new year's arrival with Firewhiskey. Harry took great pride in the fact that he could drink just as much as Sirius and the others, but not suffer any of the side-effects that they would the following morning, although he didn't really have a chance to prove it as he fell asleep after only a couple of glasses of the burning alcohol.

He woke up the next morning with a pleasant sort of calmness, and wondered if it was an effect of the alcohol not being completely washed from his system, or if it was due to simply being back with his family. He decided to choose the latter theory, and after dressing he levitated the three adults into their own beds, since they'd fallen asleep in awkward positions on the chairs – and the floor, in Tonks's case – at some point during the night. That done, he consulted his map, and was pleased to find his friends all sitting in the Great Hall enjoying lunch at the Gryffindor table.

"Did you know Fleur's coming here?" Ron blurted out before Harry even had the chance to so much as sit.

"Err… she is?"

"To visit you," Ginny nodded from her position between Luna and Cho. "She's joined the you-know-what so Dumbledore kept her updated on you, and now that you're back, she's going to visit."

"Just as well I haven't sent her Christmas present off to her yet then," Harry said, smiling at the idea of being able to see Fleur again. "How do you know?"

"She's dating Bill," Ron grumbled, not sounding happy. "Bill sent Ginny a letter."

"Was _everyone_ pairing up in our absence?" Harry groused, though really he was happy.

"What do you mean?" Cho frowned at him, and Harry grinned.

"Remus and Tonks."

"No way!" Neville exclaimed at the same time as Ron choked on his pumpkin juice, spewing it everywhere.

"Honestly, Ron!" Hermione said exasperatedly, drying up the sprayed juice with a quick flick of her wand. "That's great, Harry," she smiled, turning to him.

"It's _not_ so great when they get drunk, though," he said disgustedly, and Cho laughed at him.

"They can't have done anything too bad in your presence," Hermione frowned.

"Hermione," Harry said exasperatedly. "I love them both, I really do, but I don't need to see them _snogging_ each other for a bloody half hour! I'm all for celebrating at New Year's, but even Sirius was looking a bit grossed out!"

"You know better than to take Sirius seriously," Cho reminded him.

"Anyway, back to Fleur," Harry said, turning the conversation back to a safe subject. "When's she coming? And where's she staying?"

"Fifth of January," Ginny informed him brightly. "And she's staying at the castle, with Bill! I can't wait to see him again."

"Yeah, maybe he can help control the twins," Ron agreed, sounding happier now.

"No one can control the twins, Ron," Harry grinned.

"Don't underestimate Bill," Ginny warned. "He can be really scary."

"No one can be scarier than Snape," Harry disagreed. "And if _he_ can't control the twins…"

"We'll see," Ginny said.

* * *

Sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry! I know it's been ages since I updated - a whole huge 2 months - but the truth is with school and my new dieting & exercising I just haven't had the motivation to do anything HP-related except read the fics I'm following. However, I've passed my first group of tests - yay! - so hopefully things are going to be calm again for awhile and although updates will be considerably slower than the weekly (I think it was weekly...?) updates I had during summer, they hopefully won't have large 2-month breaks between them.

A big huge thanks to everyone who's still sticking with the story, means a lot that you all continue to read even when I'm quite terrible at giving consistent updates!


	19. Fleur, Grawp & studying!

**HP Year 5: Let the War Begin  
**_Chapter 18_

Fleur turned up early on Thursday morning, pulling Harry away from his friends since they were being captivated by stories of Bill's job as a curse-breaker, and none of them had really formed much of a bond with Fleur aside from Harry. They retreated to the lake, casting warming charms on themselves to fight against the cold, and got themselves comfortable in the snow – at least, they did until it melted, leaving them sitting on soggy grass instead.

"So how long are you staying for?" Harry asked, smiling as he looked at his half-Veela friend. He hadn't realised how much he'd missed the company of Fleur until she had returned.

"Deedn't anyone tell you?" Fleur asked, surprised. "I will be staying for awhile. I am getting a job at Gringotts as a reason for my stay, which ees good as eet will 'elp my Eenglish."

"So Gringotts is just a cover so you can be here for Order work?"

"Yes," Fleur nodded. "I must say, eet ees good to be back. I 'ave missed you, 'Arry."

"Yeah, I've missed you too, Fleur," Harry said, giving her a small sad smile. He lay down on the snow, stretching out to stare at the sky as small snowflakes landed on his glasses. "It's been a busy year."

"So I 'ave 'eard," Fleur chuckled. "I would say I am jealous, as mine 'as been boring, but I suspect it 'asn't been busy een a good way."

"Not really," Harry agreed. "Well, I don't mind the training, and honestly, that's what takes up the most of my time. But the attacks and visions, and when Sev lost his memory, and being sent away…" he shook his head. "Well, it's peaceful for now. I haven't heard much about you, though. What have you been doing?"

"I 'ave been training too," Fleur informed him. "With French duelling Masters. Mostly, zough, I 'ave just been reading Order files, getting up to date with all ze details. Oh, and I 'ave been practicing flying."

"Does that mean you'll be able to play Quidditch with us?" Harry grinned.

"Possibly," Fleur smiled, her eyes sparkling. "Now, you simply must tell me about zis other world!"

"Well, it was really weird," Harry chuckled. "I mean… Dumbledore was the bad guy! And Voldemort was the Headmaster… and Neville was the biggest prat I've ever met, worse than Malfoy. And Draco was a Hufflepuff. It was just… weird."

"And your parents?"

"They were great," Harry smiled, ignoring the pang in his chest.

"Do you miss zem?"

"Yeah. It gets easier each day, though. If I don't think about it too much it just feels like a really long and realistic dream I had."

"Fleur!"

"'Ello, Cedric," Fleur greeted, smiling brightly as she stood to hug the older boy.

"I got here as quick as I could. Auror training is a pain in the ass just now." Cedric sighed, sitting beside Harry and Fleur on the soggy grass in their melted circle of snow. "What have I missed?"

"Fleur can fly a broom now," Harry grinned. Cedric gave him a disbelieving look, obviously remember the trouble they'd had trying to convince Fleur to even touch a broom last year.

"Eet ees true!" Fleur laughed, flicking Cedric on the nose. "You should 'ave more faith in me!"

"I'll believe it when I see it," Cedric chuckled. "Does this mean more Quidditch? I miss playing it."

"Yup," Harry nodded.

"You boys," Fleur scolded. "Do you not ever zink of anything ozer than Quidditch?"

"Of course we do!" Harry said indignantly.

"Such as?" Fleur asked, barely suppressing a smile.

"Err…" Cedric said, looking blankly at Harry.

"Zat's what I zought," Fleur smiled. "Now, who wants to 'elp me build a snowman? I know some clever charms for snow, but we don't get much snow at Beauxbatons…"

.

Fleur left when term started back up, finally being allowed to go on her first Order mission. She was excited about it, but had promised Harry and Cedric that she would be very careful, and would come see them both as often as she could, although she expected to be busy for the rest of the year travelling between Britain and France. Harry found himself worrying about her often in the first week of term, but by the second he was so overcome with class work and homework and training and Quidditch practice that it was hard to find time to worry about her.

There was a Hogsmeade trip on the second weekend of term, but Harry skipped it, telling his friends to go on without him. Though the more common thought was 'third time _lucky'_, Harry couldn't help but fear if he went a third time there would be another attack. Never mind that the second attack had been for Neville, rather than Harry, and that it was really conceited, too, to think Voldemort would attack a whole village just for him… it wasn't a completely illogical worry, so Harry felt justified in staying in the castle and browsing through Animagus books. He had been briefly reading them since October, and reading them more thoroughly in the other world after learning that his counterpart was already an Animagus, which had spurred him on. There was a lot to learn, though, and Harry still hadn't told anyone – except his counterpart in the other world – that he was attempting to learn. When he was ready, he would approach McGonagall about it, but otherwise he wanted it kept a secret. He would probably end up telling Sirius and Remus after he mastered it, but his friends? He wanted his Animagus abilities to remain a secret, a trick to get him out of danger if he needed to. He trusted his friends, but they weren't learning Occlumency, so if anyone were to use Legilimency against them they would find out easy and his secret weapon would be rendered pretty much useless.

Harry headed out into the grounds late in the afternoon, when he knew his friends would be coming back, ready to try out a prank against them. It was a charm Fleur had taught him during her stay over Christmas, and he was eager to try it, even if it _was_ a really basic charm. Carefully, he built two snowmen, using his wand to make them look as realistic – with angry, creepy expressions - as possible, before charming them to life. An animation charm. His work done, Harry Disillusioned himself and waited for his friends to appear before setting the snowmen on them, watching as Hermione and Ron jumped back and fell into awkward heaps into the snow, and as Cho and Ginny blasted the two snowmen to peaces. Luna just stood off to the side, as though unaware that anything was happening, and when Harry cancelled the charm on himself an extremely annoyed Hermione and embarrassed Ron rounded on him, scolding him for giving them such a scare.

It was the first prank Harry had managed to pull since leaving Longbottom in the other world, and he was surprised at how much better he felt now. He really had just needed a good laugh.

.

The further into term Harry got, the less free time he seemed to have. His team won their Quidditch match in the third week of February, but that didn't stop Angelina pulling them out to the pitch at every opportunity, and Harry wondered how she managed it. If he was struggling with his _O._, how on earth did she find the time whilst doing her N.E.? He couldn't even find the time to visit Hagrid outside of class until near the end of March, and he felt awful for it since every week since the beginning of February Hagrid had been slowly gaining more and more injuries. The first ones had been small, just a few scratches here and there. Then the bruises came. Then bigger cuts. So he was leaving his Transfiguration essay for now, deciding he didn't care if he got detention because Hagrid was more important, and he found himself pulled into a big bear hug as soon as Hagrid opened the door to his little hut.

"Hagrid," Harry gasped. "Can't… breathe..!"

"Sorry, Harry," Hagrid grinned sheepishly. "C'mon in. No Ron an' Hermione?"

"Hermione's really stressing about revising, and she's actually starting to get Ron worried too," Harry explained apologetically.

"Ah well, school's impor'ant. Have a seat, Harry."

"Err… do you want me to do that?" Harry asked, watching in concern as Hagrid tried to make tea with a hand so bruised it looked like it had been crushed.

"I can do it," Hagrid assured him, even as his hand shook.

"Hagrid… what's happening to you? I know you can't answer when I ask you during class, but…"

"Well, it's sor'a a secret…"

Harry stared at him, and Hagrid chuckled.

"Righ', o' course. You can keep secrets. Well, it's better ter show yeh. Follow me."

"Alright," Harry said cautiously, following Hagrid out of the cabin. When he lead them into the Forbidden Forest, Harry frowned. They weren't following a specific path, and it was when you didn't follow a path you encountered the dangerous creatures…

"Are you sure this is safe, Hagrid?" Harry asked, keeping his wand held out in front of him.

"Course it is, I've bin down this way loads of times now."

And so they continued walking. And walking. And walking. Lots of things seemed to be moving in the trees, but either they weren't out to hurt people or they were scared away each time Harry aimed his wand at them. Finally, Harry noticed lots of toppled down trees, and a clearing a bit ahead, and right when he was starting to think they must be nearly where Hagrid was taking them, he found himself dangling upside down and being swung around quite viciously. His glasses flew off his face, landing Merlin knows where. It reminded Harry of his first year, when he'd been dangled in the bathroom by the troll.

"Grawp, no!" Hagrid roared. "Bad Grawp! Put Harry down!"

The swinging stopped, but Harry was still dangling, and his head was starting to hurt from all the blood rushing to it.

"Grawp, _down_!"

A thump, as Harry landed on the forest floor head first. It was cushioned from all the greenery, at least, so it didn't hurt too much.

"Yeh alrigh' Harry?" Hagrid asked anxiously as Harry stood up and summoned his glasses to him.

"I'm fine," Harry assured him, rubbing at the top of his head.

"Meet Grawp, then," Hagrid said proudly, moving past Harry to stand beside one of the largest living things Harry had ever seen. Hagrid, being a half-giant, was huge, but Grawp? Grawp was easily three times as large as Hagrid!

"Is he a giant?" Harry asked faintly.

"Grawp here's me half-brother," Hagrid explained proudly. "I had ter rescue him from the other giants. They teased him, yeh see. For bein' short."

"_Short_?" Harry asked incredulously. "Hagrid… he's 16 feet tall!"

"Short by giant standards," Hagrid shrugged. "I've bin hiding him here since January, teaching him manners an' the like. It was Madam Maxime and Fleur who found him, yeh know."

"What?" Harry frowned.

"On their mission," Hagrid said, as though it was obvious. "Yeh know. To recruit giants from France."

"_What_?" Harry asked, shocked. "She didn't say that!"

"Ah…" Hagrid looked uncomfortable now, and he started patting Grawp's leg in the same way he would pat a dog's head. "Best not tell anyone I told yeh, then. Top secret it is. I thought yeh knew."

"I didn't ask anyone," Harry shook his head. "Apart from Fleur, anyway. She said it was safe."

"Oh, it is," Hagrid told him confidently. "She's with Madam Maxime. Fierce woman, Maxime." Harry wasn't so sure he shared Hagrid's confidence. Hagrid's idea of 'safe' was, after all, extremely different from normal peoples idea of 'safe'.

.

"Where have you been?" Hermione asked anxiously when Harry returned to Gryffindor tower later that night. "We came down to visit for a bit, but you and Hagrid weren't there!"

"We were in the forest," Harry told her. He motioned Ron to come closer, then cast a privacy charm around them. "You know those injuries Hagrid's been getting? They're from his _brother_!"

"Hagrid has a brother?" Ron asked incredulously.

"A half-brother," Harry nodded. "Except, _both_ his parents were giants, instead of having a wizard dad like Hagrid did. Hagrid said he had to bring Grawp back here because he was being bullied for being really short, but he's _huge_!"

"He might still be short compared to other giants, though," Hermione said logically. "Is that why your face is all scratched?"

"It is?" Harry asked, fingering his face. "I haven't seen a mirror. Grawp dropped me, though."

"He _dropped_ you?" Hermione frowned.

"Picked me, swung me around, then dropped me when Hagrid told him to put me down," Harry chuckled. "It was a bit scary at first being so close to him, but Hagrid's teaching him basic manners and the English language and as long as you're firm with him he's okay."

"Only you could say that about a giant, mate," Ron chuckled.

"Hagrid says you're welcome to visit him when you've got free time. Then you can see for yourself that he's not so bad."

"Never thought I'd be glad to have so much homework."

"He's really not that bad, Ron," Harry shook his head. "He's really just like a big – a really, really big – baby. He's harmless."

"Coming from the bloke who got dropped on his head!"

"Yeah, well, like I said. You have to be firm with him."

.

Despite Harry's assurances that Grawp was (relatively) safe to be around, Hermione and Ron were reluctant to go near Hagrid's half-brother, so Harry took to just visiting Grawp with Hagrid, and attempted to help teach manners to Grawp. It was hard, though; Grawp was either deliberately being as difficult as possible, or he really did have the mind of a baby. Even if Harry somehow managed to teach something to Grawp (which didn't happen often at all), by the next time he visited with Hagrid Grawp had usually forgotten it already. It was fun, at least, although when Harry told this to Sirius and Remus, Sirius announced that he had a completely mental godson.

.

May brought around a panicky atmosphere, mostly caused by Hermione constantly lecturing people anxiously about the exams coming up and the importance of being prepared, which made for many late-night study sessions for the whole of the fifth- and seventh-year Gryffindors. This left very little free time for Harry, since between training, learning Occlumency, Quidditch training, studying and helping Grawp he sometimes wasn't even managing a full eight hours sleep.

"Maybe you should leave Grawp for awhile, Harry," Hermione finally suggested towards the end of May. "I've never seen anyone with bags beneath their eyes as dark as yours."

"I am," Harry told her tiredly, without looking up from his Potion's textbook. "I told Hagrid I had to stop until after the exams. And Sirius agreed to stop training for a couple of weeks."

"What about your Occlumency?" Ron asked. "That's what tires you out the most, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "But I can't afford to slack back on that just now. Sev says we need to keep working on it, especially just now when I'm focused on so many other things, he said, since it's easier for Voldemort to get in my head just now. If I stop the lessons that'll just make it even easier."

"But if you stopped you would be less tired and you'd be able to focus on your shields better," Hermione pointed out.

"I've already dropped a bunch of stuff, 'Mione. That'll be a huge help on it's own. I don't need to stop Occlumency. Besides, if Sev reckons I need it, then I need it. I trust him."

"D'you think our parallel selves are likely to get the same results as us?" Ron wondered aloud, completely changing the subject, and Harry finally looked up from his Potions textbook.

"No," Hermione answered without even looking up. "Malfoy was a Hufflepuff. He lacked the ambition and desperation to prove himself that our Malfoy has. Do you expect him to get the same results as our Malfoy?"

"But you were still book-wormy," Ron argued. "And I was… well, me."

"Well, we'll never know anyway," Harry told him, closing his book. "It's not like we'll ever see them again. Anyway, I'm tired. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Night, Harry."

.

Once in his dormitory, Harry lay on his bed staring at the ceiling for a long time. He hadn't thought about that world in a few weeks… he'd been so caught up being a walking zombie with his lack of sleep that he hadn't had the energy to think about anything other than studying, training, whatever he was having to do. But now… he wondered how his parents were. And Sirius. How had they coped, after the death of their best friend? Had anyone else died? Was Neville still being a big, bullying prat?

But, mostly… how were they coping without Remus? Harry did still have nightmares sometimes, where he would watch that scene over and over again… although, thankfully, the nightmare hadn't come in ages.

Deciding that he was far too tired to be thinking about that right now, Harry shifted so that he was comfy and let himself drift off to sleep.

.

_He was standing in front of a mirror. In its reflection, he could see a rather plain-looking room, only holding an empty bookcase and a fireplace. And, of course, the body in the full-length mirror he was currently staring into._

_ "Hello, Harry." _

_ What was going on?! He had been working on his shields! How was Voldemort in his head? Or, rather, Harry in Voldemort's if the reflection was anything to go by._

_ "You have been putting up a good fight against me," Voldemort said with a cruel smile, and Harry wished that he was able to talk back. "I have been waiting for quite some time now for your defences to be low enough for me to attack."_

_ Wake up, wake up, wake up!_

_ "Such a shame you had to come back. If you hadn't, you would have been allowed to live. I'm not entirely bad. I would have been content with you simply being away, rather than destroyed."_

_ Wake up…_

_ It was his shields! He just had to focus on his shields!_

_ "I'll look forward to seeing you soon, Harry. Very, very soon."_

.

Harry awoke with a shaky gasp and lay completely still until the burning in his scar passed and he was sure he could move without being sick. A quick glance at the clock showed it was barely after six in the morning, so after a moments thought Harry decided he'd go grab his usual potions by himself without waking anyone up. He didn't feel as weak and sore as he usually did after his visions, so there was really no need to be waking anyone up so early in the day. After quickly changing into clean clothes – he might as well get back to studying now – Harry grabbed his wand and made his way quietly out of Gryffindor Tower. The school was ghostly quiet as Harry wandered through the corridors, and despite having walked the corridors at night several times before, Harry had to admit he felt a bit spooked out. Like maybe the corridors weren't safe…

Then he decided he was just being stupid and he was letting Voldemort get to him too much.

Or was he? He could have sworn he just heard footsteps… damnit! Why hadn't he brought the Marauders Map with him?

_Tap… tap…_

Definitely footsteps. Harry whirled around, and sighed as he found Malfoy stalking towards him with his wand raised.

"I'm really not in the mood, Malfoy…"

"I really don't care, Potter," Malfoy sneered, before throwing something at Harry. Automatically, before he had a chance to really think about what he was doing, Harry reached his hand out to catch it.

And then found himself in an entirely different place.

* * *

Sorry for the huge gap between updates. I hope you all had an amazing Christmas and have had a lovely start to the new year (:

I also apologise for the shortness of this chapter, but I was really struggling with trying to figure out what to write, since this was more of a filler chapter than anything. I promise lots of excitement and action next chapter!


	20. Department of Mysteries

**HP Year 5: Let the War Begin  
**_Chapter 19_

As soon as Harry landed with an ungraceful thump on the ground, he started mentally scolding himself. What an idiot! Exhausted out his mind or not, it was no excuse. He should have woken someone before leaving the dormitory. It was common sense. As much as he hated to admit it, he was a lot more vulnerable straight after a vision, and it was just completely idiotic for him to have left like that – and even more idiotic to have actually caught what Malfoy threw at him. After five years of knowing Malfoy, he ought to have known better than to touch anything belonging to the snobby Slytherin. And now he was proving himself even more of an idiot by mentally berating himself rather than trying to figure out what mess he'd landed in this time.

.

Gripping his wand tightly in his hand, grateful that he had picked it up before leaving Gryffindor Tower, Harry slowly stood and blinked furiously as his eyes tried to adjust to the darkness of the room he was in. When they finally did, he found himself surrounded by shelves, so tall that they towered above him and eventually blended into the black, each adorned with dozens of small spheres. A small number etched into the shelf next to him showed him he was in row 83, and Harry frowned as he tried to figure out just how big this damn place was. Shivering now in the icy cold room, Harry stepped towards the little orbs and gazed at them intensely before noticing the little labels under each one. Realisation dawned on him, and Harry felt the blood drain from his face. Fumbling, he reached into his cloak pocket, desperately hoping that he had picked the right cloak, and relief swept through him as he found the little three-way mirror in his pocket.

"Sirius!" he whispered frantically, unsure of how alone he really was. "Remus!" Footsteps suddenly started echoing around the room, and Harry swore quietly as he peeked around the end of the shelves to find two Death Eaters walking towards him. Thankfully they were paying too much attention to each other to see Harry peeking at them, and he hurriedly moved in the opposite direction as he heard Remus appearing in the mirror.

"Harry? What's going on?"

"Hold on," Harry told him quickly. He had to make sure he wasn't near any other Death Eaters. He kept his face quick but quiet, only stopping at row 37 when he felt he was adequately alone.

"I… I had a vision," Harry explained, holding the mirror up so he could see Remus and Sirius clearly. "I was coming down to get the potions, but…"

"What happened?" Sirius asked sharply.

"It was all a plan! It was timed. Malfoy was waiting. He threw something at me, and I didn't even think, I just caught it, and now – I'm in the prophecy room at the Department of Mysteries! There're Death Eaters around, but I don't know how many. I've only seen two."

"Why didn't you have Ron or someone with you?" Remus asked as Sirius moved away, presumably to find Dumbledore.

"I don't know! I don't _know!_ I guess I wasn't thinking. I - " Harry broke off as he felt a wand tip suddenly digging into the back of his neck. "Ah, crap."

"Harry?"

"You're coming with me," a low voice grumbled, and Harry nearly dropped the mirror altogether as he was abruptly pulled backwards. Quickly, he shoved the mirror back into his pocket, not wanting it to get taken off him completely. He didn't hear more than two sets of footsteps – the Death Eaters and his own – so, taking a chance, Harry spun on the spot, causing the man to lose his grip. Acting quickly, Harry kicked his leg out and was able to swipe the Death Eater's feet out from under him. The abruptness of the attack surprise the Death Eater enough that he lost his grip on his wand, and Harry wasted no time in quickly stunning him and running away before others arrived to see what was causing all the noise.

.

He wasn't quick enough. A second Death Eater appeared out of nowhere, roughly shoving Harry so that he fell backwards and cracked his head off the cold stone floor. Dizzily, Harry rolled over just in time to avoid a stunner and shot his own back. His aim was entirely off. The Death Eater stepped closer, determined not to give Harry room to dodge another spell, but Sirius had Harry well trained for close physical contact and even in his slightly-dizzy state Harry was again able to swipe the Death Eater's feet out from under him. Wasting no time, Harry edged closer and elbowed him in the gut, disorientating him enough for Harry to get a stunner in. Breathing heavily, Harry rolled to his feet and stumbled forwards. The back of his head was aching quite terribly, and he _had_ to get away. Those Death Eaters had likely been fresh recruits if their terrible duelling was anything to go by, but Harry had no doubt he'd come across the more skilled ones soon and he didn't stand a chance against them, especially in this state.

.

No sooner had he thought that did a third Death Eater appear. Harry raised his wand in surprise, but not quick enough to block the stunner, and everything went black.

.

When he came to, Harry was surrounded by Death Eaters and has wand was nowhere to be seen. He quietly shifted around, and was relieved to feel the weight of the mirror in his pocket still. Not that he could use it while he was being watched, but it did offer him some small comfort. He had only just regained all his senses when he was yanked upwards and a wand was pointed roughly in his face. The Death Eaters didn't say a word, simply pushed him forwards at a steady pace, and Harry couldn't help but feel scared. He had a rough idea of what this was about, and he didn't like it one bit; if he was right, he had been brought here to retrieve the prophecy that connected him to Voldemort. If he was right, he was likely in for a lot of torture, because there was no way in hell he was handing that over to Voldemort.

.

He was right.

.

"Pick it up," a cold voice sneered at him, and Harry wanted to sneer right back when he recognised the voice.

"And if I refuse, Lucius?" Harry asked, deliberately using Malfoy's first name to infuriate him. If he angered them, he might buy more time for help to hopefully arrive. If it did. However, Malfoy seemed to be inclined to ignore Harry's pitiful attempt at annoying him, and instead turned to face the others.

"Bring her forward."

That confused Harry. Bring who forward? But then his eyes widened as an unconscious Luna was dumped on the ground in front of him. Lucius waved his wand over her, causing her to wake up with a startled noise.

"Harry?"

"Are you hurt?"

"…no."

"Pick it up," Malfoy repeated, motioning to behind Harry where a small orb sat with a neatly written label:

S.P.T to A.P.W.B.D

Dark Lord

And (?) Harry Potter

"Pick it up," he said again, when Harry didn't move. "Or your little friend will suffer for it."

"Don't do it, Harry," Luna spoke up, but whimpered as Lucius kicked her in the shin.

"Don't touch her!" Harry bit out furiously through clenched teeth. This was his and Voldemort's fight, why had Luna been dragged into this?

"Then pick up the prophecy!" Lucius yelled, pointing his wand threateningly at Luna.

"Don't," Luna repeated quietly, looking up at him with large earnest eyes.

"Cru-"

"_Alright!_" Sighing, Harry turned around and stared at the little orb that contained his prophesised destiny.

"Don't, Harry!"

"I'm not letting him hurt you," Harry told her firmly. Gazing at all the orbs, though, was giving him an idea. He would have to be fast though. Would it work? It was worth a try… he just hoped that if it failed, they would punish him, instead of Luna.

Or would they even bother with that? If it failed, they would get the prophecy. They could just kill Luna and hand Harry straight to Voldemort. Well, this was his chance… carefully, Harry picked up the orb, surprised at how heavy it felt in his hand compared to it's size. Quickly, he shifted it to his left hand and made sure he had a good, tight grip of it, before waving his hand at the whole shelf with a wandless, "Reducto!"

Instantly, the shelves shattered and along with them, the orbs, causing glass to rain down over them all. Not wasting even a millisecond, Harry then summoned his and Luna's wands and was relieved when they flew into his hand.

"Quickly!" he hissed to Luna, even as he shattered more shelves and orbs. He passed Luna her wand back as they ran, and she helped him to smash the shelves they passed. "Stop," he told her eventually. "We need to hide. Smashing everything gives them a path to us." Harry quickly slipped the prophecy into his pocket and used his now-free left hand to keep a tight grip of Luna's arm as he hurried them around row after row of shelves. His head was aching terribly from the earlier fall, and he felt tired from the wandless magic. It took more energy than wanded magic and he already hadn't been in the best of states before doing that.

"Why don't we Disillusion ourselves?" Luna suggested quietly, and Harry wanted to hit himself for not thinking of that before. He nodded at her, quickly casting the spell on both of them, and kept moving. He needed to find the door out of here, but the room was just never-endingly huge!

"Alright, slow down now," Harry murmured as he thought he spotted movement up ahead. "They can't see us, but they'll be able to hear our footsteps." He led them both quickly away from the Death Eaters up ahead, and from then on was more cautious as they walked. Finally, he found a door, and after checking that no one was near them, led them through it to find them in a smaller room. Not bothering to pause to look around the room, Harry went straight on forward to the next door, and they found themselves in a large circular room with many, many doors.

"Now what?" Harry groaned. "All these doors-"

_Slam!_

Simultaneously, two doors banged open. Harry pulled Luna into the middle of the room quickly, away from the doors, but instantly felt relief when he saw several Order members rushing through one of the doors. They wasted no time in shooting spells towards the Death Eaters, who had also just appeared through one of the other doors, and Harry swore when Luna suddenly went limp and dropped to the floor, hit by a stray stunner. Quickly, he revived her, pulled her back up and then pulled her away from the fight.

"We should get out of here," Luna told him, and Harry considered her suggestion. It was odd to see Luna so focused, rather than her usual dreamy-self, but then he supposed being kidnapped by Death Eaters could do that to a person. She had a point; it wasn't safe to stay here. But he didn't want to lose sight of the Order – of Sirius and Remus and Tonks, who he could see fighting. And if they stayed, too, they had the advantage of being invisible and able to take out extra Death Eaters.

"If it gets worse, we will," Harry decided. "But they don't know we're here, we should try and help. We can take out more Death Eaters."

"Alright," Luna agreed, and Harry felt her moving away.

"Don't let go of me, though," Harry warned. "I won't know if you're alright if I can't feel you."

.

That sorted, Harry and Luna set to Stupefying all the Death Eaters that they could. It was difficult, though, now that the Order was mingling in with them, to aim just for Death Eaters and not accidentally hit Order members as everyone dashed around quickly trying to fight each other. They were winning, though. More Death Eaters were down than Order members.

Then he felt his scar burning.

"Voldemort's here!"

"We need to get out," Luna said worriedly, sounding far more scared now than she had all night. Pausing only for a second, Harry cancelled the Disillusionment Charms on them so he could see Luna if he lost hold of her, and ran towards Tonks, who was nearest to them. He stunned the Death Eater she was fighting with and hastily threw up a shield as a purple spell came flying towards him.

"Tonks, we need to go! Voldemort's coming – or here – he's close!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes I'm sure!" Harry said anxiously, and then tripped as someone tugged him backwards in time to miss an incoming spell. When he stood again, Tonks had move to converse with Mad-Eye Moody, who was quickly signalling to the others to get the hell out of there. The burning in Harry's scar was getting worse, making it harder for him to concentrate on dodging spells, and he almost dropped his wand in surprise as a stray cutting curse slashed into his and Luna's joined arms. Luna made a small sound of pain next to him, and Harry turned towards her, concerned.

"Are you okay?" His wasn't deep enough to stop him fighting, but there was a chance it had cut Luna deeper. If the blood dripping down her arm was anything to go by, it _was_ deep.

"Come on, we're leaving," Remus cut in, appearing before Luna had a chance to reply. Sirius and Tonks were with him and worked together to deflect spells as Remus led them out. It took Harry a moment to realise his scar was hurting more and more the further away they got, and when he finally did, he fell to the ground before he had a chance to warn anyone. It was so hard to think straight… a moment later, Harry heard thumps as his family and Luna dropped to the ground beside him, unconscious.

.

"I have been looking forward to meeting you again, Harry," Voldemort started conversationally as he walked towards where Harry lay on the floor.

"You bastard," Harry ground out, trying to think around the pain in his skull, to form a plan. More Order members were coming towards them, but Voldemort stunned them all with ease.

"Such awful language, Harry," Voldemort tutted. "I wonder what your parents would say."

An image of his parents swam before his mind then, from one of his days in the parallel world. No, he couldn't afford to get distracted. He was only alive because he had the prophecy, and he had to figure out how to get it away…

"Give me the prophecy, Harry," Voldemort commanded, apparently too impatient to play his usual mind games.

"No."

Sighing, Voldemort aimed his wand at Remus's unconscious form.

"Avada K-"

"NO!" Harry yelled, leaping in front of Remus, but he needn't have, for Voldemort didn't even get a chance to complete the spell.

"Dumbledore," Voldemort spat furiously, turning away from Harry momentarily. This was his chance. Not waiting to see what Dumbledore was going to say or do, Harry Disillusioned himself and ran back through the door he had just exited. There were dozens of Order members laying on the ground, and Harry desperately hoped that they were merely unconscious, as opposed to dead… shaking his head, Harry forced himself to focus. He had to get rid of the prophecy before Voldemort found him. He hesitated for only a small moment before stepping through the door nearest him, and shivered. It was even colder in here than in the prophecy hall! Not wanting to waste a single second, Harry cast a quick locking charm on the door, even though he knew it wouldn't keep a Death Eater out for long, and made his way down the stone steps, wanting to be away from the door. That done, he pulled the prophecy out of his pocket and eyed it warily. It was now or never. He tipped his hand over, allowing the prophecy to roll out of his palm and crash into the floor. As it shattered, a small, pearly white ghostly figure rose up and began to speak.

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not. And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies."_

The figure dissipated into thin air, and Harry slowly sat down. There was no denying it now. He had secretly hoped… there had been differences between the worlds, there hadn't been any guarantee that the prophecy was the same… but it was. There was just no denying it. No getting away from it. No maybe's left. The prophecy was the same, meaning Harry was the one.

.

It was then that Harry became aware of a strange feeling, and he glanced behind him to see a stone archway placed in the centre of the room with a black veil fluttering as though a breeze was pushing against it. Harry stood again, and cautiously stepped towards it. It was strange. It felt like it was drawing him in, and as he got nearer, he thought he could hear a strange murmuring. Was someone there? Logically, he knew he ought to run, if he wasn't as alone in the room as he thought, but something stopped him from turning away. He was so focused that he didn't even hear the door the room opening, but he was luckily still able to sense a spell coming for him and he quickly jumped away. The strange sensation was gone, the murmuring gone, leaving Harry to focus. The Death Eater had lost his mask in the fight, and Harry was surprised at how young he looked – like he was barely out of school. He didn't recognise him though. Perhaps he wasn't from Hogwarts?

.

The stone floor in front of Harry exploded, and Harry cursed himself for his inability to focus as he flew backwards and cracked his head on the floor for the second time that night. The Death Eater looked nervous, though. Was he a rookie? Harry hoped so. He hadn't come this far to get caught by a lone Death Eater. The man walked slowly towards Harry, his blond curls plastered to his sweaty forehead, and Harry aimed a stunner. It was easily deflected, and Harry had to roll over quickly to avoid being hit by his own spell. The Death Eater had reached him now. Did they never learn? It was so much easier to take them down when they got close! Ignoring the wand in his hand, Harry kicked out with his legs and caught the blond boy in the stomach. He stumbled back with a small grunt, giving Harry time to get to his feet. He was a lot taller than Harry, but he was bent over to clutch at his stomach, giving Harry perfect access to the back of his neck. Sirius had taught him about pressure points, and Harry easily found the right spot and rammed his left elbow into it, hard – or as hard as he could with an injured arm, at least, causing the blond to drop to the floor, unconscious. He paused for a second, making sure that the blond was actually breathing – he knew hitting too hard could sometimes cause death, rather than loss of consciousness, and disgusting as the Death Eaters were, Harry wasn't a murderer – before making his way back out of the room. The prophecy was destroyed, and Harry didn't want to spend another minute in this room and its creepy veil.

.

He walked straight into Tonks as he was exiting the door, causing the pair of them to stumble over.

"Thank Merlin you're alright!" Tonks cried out in relief as she hugged him. Harry winced as her hug put pressure on the many bruises he'd received that night.

"Is he gone?"

"Dumbledore scared him off," Tonks explained solemnly, pulling Harry with her towards the door to get out. "We were so worried – we didn't know if the Death Eaters had gotten you or not!"

"One came after me, but I knocked him out. I had to get rid of the prophecy before Voldemort could get his hands on it."

"Harry! Are you alright?" It was Sirius now, and Harry frowned at all the injuries he could see on his godfather.

"I'm fine. I want to crawl into bed and sleep for a week, though. Are you okay? Where's Luna?"

"McGonagall took her back," Remus told him, appearing beside Sirius. "You don't look fine," he added, frowning.

"I'm sure I look a fair sight better than you two," Harry brushed him off.

"Come on, we're getting out of here," Tonks told them, holding out an old shoe. She waited until they were all gripping it before tapping it with her wand, and they landed in the Hospital Wing in Hogwarts a moment later.

"What did you do with the prophecy?" Remus asked as the four of them settled down on the one bed to wait for Pomfrey, who was currently tending to other Order members.

"I destroyed it. Voldemort won't be getting his hands on it."

"Separate beds!" Madam Pomfrey said in a bossy tone, cutting in on their conversation.

"But-" Tonks started.

"Separate beds!" Madam Pomfrey repeated. "I can't treat you all on the one bed!"

Sighing, the three adults moved over to different beds, leaving Madam Pomfrey to tend to Harry first.

"Are you in pain?" she asked as she waved her wand over his body.

"My head hurts a bit. And my arm. It's not too bad, though."

Which was a lie, because his head was actually killing him.

"Hmm." The healer summoned three different potions to her, and handed them to Harry. "Drink up. They'll fix your concussion and numb the pain and let you sleep."

"Wait – no – I don't want to sleep!" Harry protested.

"You already drank the potion," Pomfrey told him with a sweet smile, and Harry tried to glare at her, but already he could feel his eyes drooping, and it wasn't long before he was sound asleep.

* * *

Okay, I felt really bad about leaving you with a cliffhanger after such a massive wait between updates, so here you go!

There's only one chapter left to year five now, and then I'm on to year six! Wow. I'll hopefully have the next chapter up within the next month, and I'll be posting chapter one of year six along with it, because I already have a rough draft of chapter 20 and it does end on a cliffhanger, and I don't want to keep you waiting with that.

I hope Harry doesn't seem too super-powered in this fic. He _was_ mainly up against rookie fighters, and he's been recieving extensive training, but I'm always conscious of the fact that he's only fifteen and these Death Eaters are older with far more experience. Just let me know if he does seem too strong, and I'll try and tone it down a little.


	21. King's Cross

**HP Year 5: Let the War Begin  
**_Chapter 20  
_

The next day passed in a blur to Harry as he explained to several different groups of people what had happened the previous night, and learned the consequences of his less-than-clever actions the previous night… such as the death of Sturgis Podmore. Harry hadn't known the man well at all, and in fact could barely picture his face when he was told the name, but it didn't stop the guilt. If he had just thought to take someone with him… of course, Sirius and Remus weren't about to let him blame himself, and told him that even if he had gotten Ron or someone to walk with him, Malfoy still would have had the essence of surprise and would have easily overpowered them both.

.

It wasn't until a couple of days after the attack that Sirius and Remus were finally able to tell Harry what was happening with Malfoy –

"Absolutely _nothing_," Sirius told him bitterly.

"What? How?" Harry asked, entirely confused. He had come directly from breakfast, having spotted Malfoy's return to the Slytherin table.

"He's claiming he was acting under the influence of the Imperious Curse," Remus explained. "The fact that it's illegal to subject a minor to interrogation with use of Veritaserum combined with his father's wealth and willingness to hand out bribes…"

"But Dumbledore doesn't believe that, right?"

"No, he doesn't. But Minister Fudge gets the final say, and Lucius cleverly formed a strong bond with him, way back at the start of his career."

"Why does he? I thought the Headmaster was supposed to have the final say."

"The Minister has the power to step in and fight against any decision he deems unfair or biased, or if he feels there is insufficient proof."

"That's… that's…" Harry trailed off, unable to think.

"We know, kiddo," Sirius told him sympathetically. "We don't like it any better than you do. Once that idiot Fudge gets involved though, there isn't much that can be done."

"The teachers are going to be keeping a closer eye on him from now on, though," Remus assured him.

"That won't stop him."

"It's better than nothing," Sirius sighed. "Just keep your guard up. Don't go walking the corridors alone at night. We can't take the chance of something similar happening again."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, dropping his gaze.

"Don't keep beating yourself up about it, cub," Remus told him gently. "We've already told you it isn't your fault. You need to forgive yourself and move past it."

"But if I hadn't been alone…"

"Malfoy still would've got you. No offence to Ron, Harry, but Malfoy's a better dueller. And you had just had Voldemort in your head. He would have easily over-powered you," Sirius reminded him.

"Not to mention, there's a chance that Luna still would have been taken, only she would have been on her own. Without you there, they'd have killed her on the spot."

"Maybe," Harry said doubtfully.

.

The last few remaining weeks passed quickly enough, with exams and studying taking up most of Harry's time. He did manage to fit in extra training, and even seemed to be doing much better with Occlumency, much to his surprise! He wasn't sure what had changed, but it was suddenly much easier to defend his mind from Snape's, and it didn't even take all that much effort. He put it down to his new-found motivation to do everything in his power to stop Voldemort, after the events that had happened at the Ministry. He didn't want to give Voldemort the chance of harming any of his friends, _again_.

He had, though, developed a slightly worrying voice in the back of his head. He hadn't mentioned it to anyone yet, as it reminded him of the voice that was always in the back of his mind as a child, always reminding him how worthless he was. Difference was, now the voice didn't insult him; rather, it made subtle comments about others. Oftentimes, it was right, but Harry didn't like it. He didn't like seeing the negative in his friends. No one was perfect, he knew, but where was the point in focusing on their bad points? And so, he ignored the voice, figuring it was just his twisted mind trying to remind him not to trust anybody. Well, he tried his hardest to.

Despite this, the remainder of the year passed without trouble after the end of his exams, and so it was with a much brighter atmosphere than the previous year that Harry boarded the train with his friends. They had marked Viktor's death the previous week with a small picnic on the grounds which Cedric had joined them for, although Fleur had been unable to as she was away on Order business. It had started out a quiet, sad affair until Cedric had decided Viktor would have preferred them happier and had started distracting them all. It had been a nice day, although of course it would have been nicer if Viktor had been alive to be there.

Harry and his friends passed their time on the train by swapping chocolate frog cards, playing games of exploding snap and discussing their upcoming summer. Hermione was going on a holiday to Egypt, but none of the others had any definite plans. Fred and George hinted at something spectacular that they had planned, but refused to spill any information about it, annoying them, especially Ron, to no end.

.

The train eventually slowed to a stop, and Harry stood up with an eager smile, already looking very much forward to this Summer. Since he and Ron were nearest to the luggage rack, they took the job of pulling down everybody's belongings and handing them over to their owners, before finally taking their own and following the others off the train.

Sirius and Remus were standing with the Weasleys, Grangers and Changs, and Harry frowned when he didn't see any sign of Luna's father.

"We're taking Luna," Ginny told him, correctly interpreting his look. "She only lives about a five minute walk away from the Burrow."

"Oh, okay," Harry replied, though the frown stayed on his face as he caught sight of angry expressions on Sirius's and Remus's faces now. Before he had a chance to guess what had them looking so furious, he felt a hand grabbing his arm and tugging him round.

"Uncle _Vernon_?" Harry asked in shock as his mind scrambled to register just who was standing in front of him. "But you're – you're in jail!" Suddenly realising he had frozen in fear when Vernon grabbed him, Harry forced his mind to work and tried to pull his arm back, yanking so hard he thought he might dislocate his shoulder, but his Uncle's grip was very tight. He didn't look angry, though… actually, his face was almost calm. He was vaguely aware of Sirius and Remus moving towards him, out of the corner of his eye, and then Harry recognised the look in his Uncle's eyes, the glazed-over look that showed his Uncle was unaware of much of anything. He barely had time to register this fact, that his Uncle was under the Imperious curse, before there was a sudden familiar jerk behind his navel and the train station disappeared from sight, morphing instead with a dizzying array of colours into the familiar kitchen at Number Four, Privet Drive.

* * *

Sorry for the delay. My parents are getting divorced and school has been a pain, so I haven't really had the energy for this. It was killing me though, knowing that I was leaving you longer and longer without an update, so here we go. I apologise for its shortness, but this chapter did not want to be written, and really, I covered all the important points for year five, so this was more a bridge to year six, the first chapter of which can be found on my profile! I just couldn't bear to leave you with such an awful cliff hanger.

A big thanks to everyone who has followed this series so far. Your reviews and support mean the world to me! I will try my hardest to make sure that year six does not take so long to complete, but as I mentioned above, life is stressful right now, so bear with me.


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